Musings
by Lauren94
Summary: A series of one-shots, in Derek's POV for now, about certain instances in the books :
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first attempt at fanfiction... Enjoy :)**

**This is set during The Awakening on the bus ride to Andrew's in Derek's POV.**

**Disclaimer: If I were Kelley Armstrong, I wouldn't be posting my stories here; I'd be publishing them.**

_On the bus part 1_

_DPOV_

"We can't sit together up here," I said.

"No, we can't," said Simon, with a note of finality in his voice and a look in his eyes daring me to protest.

Sighing in resignation, I walked towards the back of the bus, sliding into a window seat, readying myself for the long hours ahead spent planning our next course of action. I soon realized that I had a problem: I didn't have enough information to properly construct a plan. Plans are based on theories, which are based on facts. If you are aware of and understand your information, you can make accurate assumptions on possible outcomes and in turn make plans on how to either reach those outcomes or avoid them in favor of more promising ones. Unfortunately, the only facts I have are leading to more questions and the lack of information is maddening. All I know is that we are genetically modified supernaturals, three of us with stronger, incontrollable powers and that the Edison Group is after us. That's it. And the not knowing only adds to my frustration. If they catch up to us, what will happen? Will they try to "rehabilitate" us? I almost snort at the term. Is that even possible? Or will they just accept that we're "failures" and terminate us as "humanely as possible?" and what about Andrew? Will we find him? What will he say? Will he be able to help us? Will he even know how to help us or how to explain our situation? There's Dad to worry about too. Where is he? Is he okay? What even happened to him? Another thing I know is that the journey ahead will not be easy, considering the fact that we're four teenagers on the run with little knowledge and even less experience… all these questions and lack of answers were really getting to me. Cluelessness and I don't fit together too nicely. Sighing, this time in annoyance-at our current predicament or at myself, I wasn't too sure- I looked out the window, hopping to find some peace of mind for a couple of minutes.

The sight that met me hardly put my mind to rest. It was a nice day, the sky a cloudless, rich blue, like a sapphire: the exact colour of Chloe's eyes, the eyes that can see past all the pretenses…

Chloe.

That tiny girl was a matter in itself. She wasn't a problem necessarily. She was savvy and useful and interesting. But she creates problems for me. Well, not problems but _a_ problem really: I find myself thinking about her more than I'd like to admit. I think about her and her shy, quiet demeanor, which leads me to wonder about her, because under the soft, pardonably mistakable meek exterior, she's strong as steel and stubborn and righteous, smart and sharp, caring and selfless and brave. I'll admit, at first I considered her expendable, another pawn in the chess set in my plan to get Simon out of Lyle House. Then, Chloe took me by surprise, something most people don't manage to do. She stood up to me, an admirable feet in itself considering she mustn't weigh more than a hundred pounds and is at least a foot and some shorter than me, the overgrown, hulking werewolf; she accepted she was a necromancer in stride and after initial shock, managed the zombies with relative calm and acted okay with it afterwards. Then, she figured out my motivation for pushing her in the right direction and albeit being pissed, agreed to go along with the plan because hey! Like I said, Chloe's just that honorable. Plus, _while in captivity_, she managed to gather information on us, giving us answers to our otherwise hopeless guessing. Oh, then, off course, she stayed with me for the Change, which frankly, I still cannot dignify with an explanation, making me forever in her debt really, because I will grudgingly admit that having her there was nice. It made me feel better, like I wasn't alone for the first time in a long time. I won't forget what she did for me. Over the past few days, Chloe has become anything but expendable.

Objectively speaking, she was-is- pretty too, really pretty, even with the black hair. I groan internally at the thought.

I respected Chloe.

I liked her-platonically speaking of course-and that is how I repay her.

Not only am I the reason for that stupid, black hair, which I truly feel bad about, even though, like I said, it _is_ only hair and it'll grow out, but I also chewed her out three times in one night, two of which I will admit to myself were completely unjustifiable.

I shy away from the thoughts, but they come anyway. Me, losing control yet again and almost ending another life. All because I couldn't keep calm. Yes, Chloe was in danger but I didn't need to throw someone into a wall to properly resolve the situation.

Chloe had been right afterwards though. I was mad at myself for almost throwing the girl and I took it out on her, because in my mind, at the time, Chloe getting attacked was her own fault because she didn't listen to me when I told her to stay put. She blatantly ignored me. But, she was right again in the reasoning that she was not a dog. I had no right to order her around. The thing that evades her though is that I just want to keep her safe. It's almost like a compulsion, like I need to…

I remind myself that when this is all over, she will be safe, safe with Simon, who apparently, _really_ likes her. No, he does really like her. It's different with Chloe and even I can see that. They will be good together and even though I now that, it's hard to stop the hurt and the jealousy from flaring up in my chest.

That's another problem that's been manifesting myself. These unexplained feelings. I'm waging a constant battle for control of my mind. I know I should feel one way for example and the wolf feels another, almost urging me to feel the same way. Like when Simon grabs Chloe's hand, I'm happy that my plan is working out so well and yet I can't help but feel irrationally protective of Chloe, like Simon should not be touching her. It's things like that that remind me that I have an inhuman being inside me that makes me feel that way. My actions are my own doing and I will take responsibility for them. But some of my feelings are because of the wolf and I think he should be held at least partly responsible.

I'm jolted out of my reverie by a sign saying we're approaching Syracuse. Oh joy. I also happen to pick up Simon and Chloe's conversation, not like I had been keeping tabs on it…

"There's another thing I've been thinking." Simon was saying, "I know it's not exactly a good time…" it felt like a lead weight dropped in my stomach. He was asking her out and no doubt she would say yes because everybody loves Simon. Annoyed at myself, inexplicably mad at Simon and weirdly hurt by the prospect of Chloe liking Simon-which _she should_ I remind myself- my legs move as if on their own accord towards them, interrupting their "moment."

Like I said, this is my first fanfic, so comments, reviews and critiques are much appreciated :)


	2. Chapter 2

First, I'd like to say THANK YOU for all the comments :) I feel so spoiled. I hope this isn't too much like the first one. I have a couple more in Derek's POV and then I might switch it around... we'll see. If you have any suggestions, comment or PM me :)

Disclaimer: Last time I looked in the mirror, I didn't look like Kelley Armstrong… damn, I guess I still don't own anything :'(

This is set during the Awakening, on the bus, after the fight with the werewolves.

_On the bus part 2_

_DPOV_

After Chloe fell asleep on my shoulder, I finally started to process what had just happened. I was so focused first on getting Chloe safe and then cleaning her up and then making sure we were safely hidden until the bus came that what had just happened was put on the back burner, there, but not consciously acknowledged. Now, it was looping through my brain like one of Chloe's ghostly replays. Albeit being scared and feeling fiercely protective, anger was the emotion that dominated at the moment-big surprise there. I admit, though rather painfully, that the fact that Chloe had even been present for this situation was my fault. I shouldn't have woken her up to tell her where I was going and what was happening in the first place. And the only reason that I did was because I _knew _she'd insist on coming and I liked having her there.

I needed her there.

I wanted her there.

She made me feel calmer, comforted and her presence alone, even without the noncommittal, though still comforting, murmurs of reassurance, was more than I could ever ask for. I felt like if she were there that I would be okay, that I had to be okay because she was there and she needed me, and those thoughts made the pain almost bearable. Chloe and I seemed to almost be tied together by our shit circumstances. We were there for each other when no one else was and we seemed to know exactly what the other needed to hear. I provided protection and in her own way, Chloe provided protection too because all things aside, when I was changing, Chloe made me feel safe, like _I_ was safe and not a danger. And I admired that. I knew that what she saw wasn't pretty and her refusing to look away-too stubborn for her own good that one-made me feel human. She even had a way of letting me know that she felt bad for me without making me feel pitied, which I don't even know how she did. Chloe was there for me, and tonight, I had failed her miserably all because I was too scared to deal with the Change by myself. I was mad at myself for exposing her to that danger and to those monsters, which frankly, wasn't a strong enough word. If I hadn't been outmatched and outnumbered, I probably wouldn't have had any reservations about finishing one of them off-preferably Liam-and that kind of scared me. But really, they-mostly Liam though, deserved it for intending to do what they wanted to.

The whole time, I was admittedly terrified and inexpressibly panicked. Not for me though, for Chloe. All I could think about was getting her safe, no matter what is cost me. And every time Liam leered at her or addressed her, I wanted to snap his neck in two.

I can feel myself getting worked up just thinking about it and the only thing that calms me down is the sight of her sleeping safely and soundly on my shoulder. After taking a few precautionary deep breaths, I'm clear-headed enough to remember something that Chloe said in the bathroom when I was cleaning her up. Her words came back to me, the memory still fresh in my mind:

"But you considered entrusting you life to people who would? Werewolves who play judge and jury for their own kind? Torture and kill other werewolves? Knowing that, you'd go to them, pretend you killed humans, and hope they'd go easy on you because you're a kid? Or were those odds okay with you? If they decided you didn't deserve to live, maybe they'd be right?" Her tone was thick with sarcasm, but when I was too slow to answer, she started to panic. She thought I had a death wish, which I don't. I do not. I'm not one of those teenagers who walk around wallowing in self-pity and saying my life is terrible and that there's no point to it. The way I see it, things could always be worse, even if they seem pretty terrible some times. Like I could be dead, or locked up, alone, never having known Simon or Dad or Chloe… The reason I took my time to answer was because I was trying to figure out how to explain it to Chloe. Basically, the safety of those I care about comes before my own because I wouldn't be able to live with myself if something happened to one of them and I came out all right. It went against all my instincts as pack "Alpha". It's hard to explain why you are the way you are and I've always been that way. Better me than one of them. But what really struck me in Chloe's little speech was the underlying understanding. She managed to create the proverbial crack in the wall, a hole in my defenses because, with a start, I realized that Chloe seemed to have me figured out. Unlike most people, she hadn't shied away from the exterior and that caught me off guard. Instead, she had tried to infiltrate the interior and I realized that I let her. I wanted to know her and I wanted her to know me. Those thoughts surprised me too because I used to think that I could figure anyone out. There are basic, almost standard flaws in human nature. Conceit, arrogance, selfishness… and if you pay enough attention, at some point, you start recognizing patterns and people become easy to read.

Well, not including Chloe. The girl was always surprising me and for once, I didn't know what to expect from a person. That realization was slightly daunting because if I didn't know what to expect, I couldn't plan and that was, well that was new to me. Gulping nervously, I looked down again at Chloe, now nestled into my side, and slowly came to the conclusion that, somehow, the deceptively sweet and naïve sleeping girl was not as harmless as I first thought she was because she seems to have pegged me before I could even begin to figure her out.

That could prove to be problematic…

Again, reviews and critiques are much appreciated. Tell me if it's too similar to the first one. Thank you :)


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you to everyone who's been reading and thanks for the reviews :) They're very encouraging. Okay, so this is set after the infamous date scene from Derek's POV. Enjoy, even though it's kind of long!

Disclaimer: Still don't own anything

_Stupid teenagers and their stupid hormones_

_DPOV_

My trek through the woods to find Simon managed to put me in an even blacker mood, which I didn't think was possible. The oncoming Change was making me irritable and the night's events and everything they brought on were not helping.

After Chloe and Simon had left for the night, I had tried to lose myself in the books of the library, refusing to think about their date. That proved to be unsuccessful.

Very unsuccessful.

Their stupid date was all I could think about.

Over the past couple of days I had come to admit and accept that I liked Chloe as more than a friend, though, if I was being honest, things had been like that for me for a while now. Ever since the second Change.

Either way, it doesn't matter how I feel because nothing will come of it and I know that. With that in mind, I had decided that I wasn't going to do anything about it and wait for-pray that-these feelings went away, which seemed to be wishful thinking…

So I ended up spending the hour and a half that they were in my room, brooding, for which I was not proud but could not help. At first, my anger had been directed at Andrew. I could not, and still cannot, believe that he let them go out. It was reckless and irresponsible and he was supposed to be the one taking care of us. But no, he just let them saunter out of the house like we lived in rainbow land with cotton candy clouds dotting the sky. He was probably just trying to make sure that Simon got the girl, I had thought somewhat bitterly.

I remembered with a mix of painful acceptance and indignation what Andrew had said to Chloe about my evident "attachment" to her and to always remember that I wasn't all human, disdain and fear respectively colouring his tone.

I'm not blind. I'm not under any false pretence. I know Andrew likes Simon better. I also know that he's afraid of me and as much as try to tell myself that I don't care, that he's wrong, screw him… it hurts. I had thought that he knew me well enough to know that I wasn't going to go on some unpredictable, bloodthirsty killing spree. I guess not. And his doubts sometimes make me think that maybe he _is_ right, that when I become a full-fledged werewolf, I won't be as in control as I'd like to think, that I should be something to shy away from, to fear.

Then my thoughts turned to Simon and I was surprised at the intensity of my anger and jealousy. I was even more surprised at the words that the wolf was throwing his way. Rationality somehow then managed to take over and reign in my otherwise furious thoughts. Of course he liked-likes- Chloe. What isn't there to like? Hell, even _I _liked her and I disregard 99.9% of all people. I couldn't blame him for that. I could still be jealous though; jealous that he got to spend time alone with her and jealous that he was who he was, which was someone who deserved Chloe and could make her happy and safe.

And finally, every other feeling I had had evaporated and all I was left with was hurt and loneliness when I thought of Chloe. And those feelings were completely irrational and unjustifiable. Why should she have-could she have- the power to hurt me, unknowingly to boot? I, who completely ignore social rules and frivolities, even knew the outcome to this story. There is no way that in this lifetime someone like Chloe would fall for someone like me, especially when Simon was an option. There was no self-pity in that statement. There couldn't be because it was cold hard fact and I had known that from the start, when the first seeds of attraction had begun to bloom.

Still.

It hurt to know that I wasn't good enough and that I wouldn't-couldn't, ever be. To know, to know for sure, that Chloe was completely out of reach, did terrible things to me. Even the wolf, who has been saying things like 'Ours' whenever I think of Chloe, which has been a lot lately, was whimpering. It was truly pathetic. I was pathetic.

I had looked out the window and in an instant was rushing down the stairs, my pity-party coming to an end. It was dark out. Simon had promised me, _promised,_ that they'd be back before dark. Anger and worry were waging a battle for dominance as I was pacing in front of the door, giving them two more minutes before I went looking, when I heard Chloe coming towards the house…

Well, _that _altercation had been great. I snort. Not.

Being me, I had practically demanded she tell what had happened; not missing the fact that she was crying and wanting to teach Simon some basic survival skills.

Then she dropped the bomb.

Simon, my little genius of a brother, thought that Chloe liked me. I felt like I had been slapped like the wind had been knocked right out of me. I didn't even know how to process that information, react to it, because I had just previously established that that possibility was impossible. When she denied it, I battled between relief, almost gratefulness and severe disappointment and hurt.

She had said that she didn't like me and she shouldn't. I was a grumpy, stubborn, self-righteous know-it-all and possibly dangerous-I was anything if not self-aware. The thing is though, that I had prepared for that, for her not liking me _that_ way, I had planned for it and knew how I was going to proceed. Now this sudden curveball, that created a crack in my steely resolve to not do anything and try to not feel anything, just added to the confusion because now I didn't know what do to or what to believe. Even though I knew that I liked Chloe, it still confused because I've never felt this way and I never really thought that I would. Chloe confused me too, and not just mentally. Whenever I smelt her, or heard her voice, or even looked at her, my senses were assaulted. They were overwhelmed. She also scared me.

I know. The thought of Chloe scaring anyone was comical. But it was true. She scared me because she was the reason I felt the way I did-normal, trusted, comfortable, accepted-and I didn't know to react to what I was feeling. Sometimes I even wanted to scare her away just so I didn't need to deal with all the confusion and venture into unknown, uncertain territory.

Plus there's the fact that in the long run, I don't think I could be what Chloe would need me to be. I have no experience, unsurprisingly. None. I wouldn't know how to be charming, how to comfort her. And I would most definitely _not_ know how to be a boyfriend. Chloe deserved the best and if anyone, not just me, couldn't give that to her, then they didn't deserve her.

But alas, there was the old male ego and _my_ stupid feelings to take into consideration and her denial hurt, more than I care to admit. Because during my hour and a half of brooding, a couple of fantasies, of which Chloe was the star, flitted through my mind and I couldn't help but enjoy them, wish for them to become reality. I had to remind myself that it wasn't possible.

There was Simon to consider too. She had hurt. She had rejected him and brotherly instinct kicked in. Practically insinuating that she was a manipulative heart breaker was _definitely _not one of my finer moments.

I knew she was upset. I knew she needed a friend, understanding, maybe even a little empathy, but in the haze brought on by the change and the ride of emotions I seemed to be riding, I couldn't manage that. I did however manage to make things exponentially worse by upsetting her more, which made me feel fanfreakingtastic. And her tear filled eyes practically ripped my heart to pieces because I wanted to chase them away but I didn't know how to do that without getting slapped, though I doubted she would slap me, or scaring her off because all I was thinking of doing was pulling her into my arms and apologizing a million times if I had to, which was not an option. So I ended doing what I apparently now do best. Nothing. I walked her back to the house, making sure she was safe and that was that.

Mind-blowing, I know.

So now I find myself completely pissed off and confused, trying to find Simon. I was mad at him for upsetting her and for taking her out in the first place and mad at myself for making things worse and screwing things up. When I finally found him, he was sitting on the ground in a clearing and, too angry for pretences, I stood in front him, crossed my arms and asked, "What happened?"

Unsurprised by my curtness, he stood up, ignored my question and said, "Wow, I can't believe Chloe likes you when she knows you can be like this." He didn't seem mad, a bit upset, but not mad. There wasn't even any hurtful inflection in his voice. It almost sounded like he was… joking?

"Chloe doesn't like me." I say gruffly. He snorts.

"Whatever Derek. She does. She couldn't even get the words 'I don't like Derek' out of her mouth. And you like her too, I mean-"

I cut him off, not liking the knowing look in his eyes or where this is going. It had been hard enough to admit to myself that I liked Chloe; there was _no way_ that I was admitting it to Simon. We needed to get back on track. I needed to know what happened. And I had to stop the wolf from yelping in contentment, a sentiment brought on by Simon's words.

"Simon. What. Happen." I say, making it clear that it isn't a question. He sighed, knowing that he couldn't put it off any longer.

"It didn't work out. She's not into me that way, which became painfully obvious when I tried to kiss her-" low, inaudible growl on my part "-and it felt as if she'd rather be _anywhere_ but where she was. She basically confirmed what I had already suspected and I, ah… got a little sensitive." he admitted this last part rather sheepishly.

"So you walked away from her? Left her alone, unprotected and defenseless in the woods?" I ask angrily.

He suddenly found something very enticing to look at on the ground. His discomfort didn't last long though because he was suddenly looking at me steadily in the eyes.

"You're wrong D. She wasn't alone. She had you and she likes it that way."

I had to stomp on the sudden wave of contentment and bliss that Simon's words brought on. Because even if it was nice to think about and tempting to hope for, I couldn't give myself that luxury because I'd most likely be setting myself up for disappointment and more hurt. If I put myself out there and Chloe, one of the few people I've grown to fully trust and count on, didn't want me… I don't know how I'd deal with that or how we'd get past it because all things aside, Chloe was my friend and I value her friendship too much to jeopardize it. Plus, what kind of brother would I be if I disregarded the fact that she hurt Simon? A shit one, that's what.

"Simon, I'm-"

He cut me off angrily. "Don't you dare say you're sorry Derek. I'm not going to condemn you for not being able to control your feelings. Hell, it's nice to know that you can't be in control of everything _all the time. _I mean," His angry rant over, he continued jokingly, "I'll let your slip slide this time, but don't let it happen again." He even managed a cheeky grin.

"But she-"

Simon was apparently a mind reader too because he was prepared for what I was about to say next.

"Yeah, she hurt me, kind of surprised me too." I felt like saying welcome to the club but chose to keep my mouth shut. "But I'll get over it. It's not like I was in love with her." The latter statement was accompanied by an odd look, like he was trying to figure something out.

"I'm tired and I'm going to go to bed." He continued "This was a nice little heart-to-heart bro; we should do it again sometime." He finished by clapping me on the back. "By the way," he called over his shoulder, "just this once, I'm right. So not only do I get bragging rights when this all works out, I also get to tell you what to do, which is to not be too stubborn or too scared to take a chance."

Tired, confused, unable to focus properly, hot, itchy and not used to _not_ having the last word, I sighed and followed Simon back to the house, prepared to do whatever needed to get Chloe to come for the quick-coming Change. I wasn't thinking past that. Once I had rested, I would think about everything that had been said and sort through what I felt so I could figure out how to proceed.

I took a deep breath and knocked on Chloe's door.

Please R&R :)


	4. Chapter 4

First off, I'd like to thank everyone who's reading this story. You guys are keeping it alive. Second, I'd like to say a BIG thank you to everyone who has reviewed! They keep me going and motivated :)

So, this is set during the Reckoning, while Chloe is napping in the parlor after the fight with Liam and Ramon and right before her and Derek's intense moment after she drops her water glass. Once again, it's in Derek's POV.

Disclaimer: Last time I checked I wasn't a best-selling author. Guess I still don't own anything…

_Decisions of a lovesick teenager_

_DPOV_

As I sat watching over Chloe's sleeping figure, my decision and resolve cemented themselves: I really liked Chloe and I was going to do something about it. This wasn't just some crush and she wasn't just some girl. She was special. And it's different. Something about whatever _this_ is-my feelings and her-is different and I remember those couple of times where our gazes had locked and it felt as if gravity was no longer holding me in place, but Chloe was. I also knew-however pretentious and presumptuous this may sound-that Chloe liked me too. And it wasn't just because of my talk with Simon or of the small indications I had become aware of, like how she blushes crimson and looks away whenever I catch her looking at me. No. It was more than that. I knew it with a certainty that took me aback and run deep within; one that made me feel like Chloe and I were _supposed_ to happen, like there was no other way for things to work out.

I realized after the final fight with Liam and Ramon and during Chloe's questioning that we were in too much danger and surrounded by too much uncertainty to not take action when the opportunity presented itself. I had never really understood the flaw in human nature that made us want what we want when we want it. I thought that if people exercised self-control and were disciplined enough that they'd be able to control their feelings. Well, I was wrong and I finally understood what it meant. There was no way that I was going to face the Edison Group, risking my life, without first giving into what I wanted before my possible demise. And what I wanted was Chloe. But it went beyond that. I _needed _her. I needed her optimism and understanding; I needed her stubbornness and her unwillingness to back down to me; I needed her concern and her empathy and her care. I just needed her. She made it seem like our fight and our trials and tribulations were all worth it in the end.

I realized that Chloe was awake and turned to her, catching her staring again. Her cheeks flamed and she looked I away. I frowned, wondering what she thinks about that makes her do that.

"Must be almost lunchtime." She says, still not looking at me. I'm a bit surprised at what she said and take a moment before answering. Food had honestly and surprisingly been the last thing on my mind, which was occupied by trying to figure out why she was acting so strangely, almost embarrassed.

"Maybe." I say, shrugging. "You okay?"

She nods and I finally see that she looks worried, probably thinking about Banks. I frown again. If she is worrying about what happened downstairs, she should talk about it so she can work through it. I ask if she wants to do just that and receive another nod. When I say that I'm going to get Simon, you guessed it, another nod from the now mute Chloe.

That was it. I was getting to the bottom of this. Why wasn't she saying anything? Why wouldn't she look at me in the eye?

"Chloe." I say, trying to command her to look at me. When she still won't, I start to worry. What was wrong? Had something happened-and if so, then what?

"Chloe?" I ask more softly, praying that she will_ just look at me_. She did then, thank god, but just as suddenly fumbled with the glass of water she had been holding, getting wet and barely saving it before it smashed into a million pieces. She was looking intently at the glass so she hadn't seen my moment of shock. For the couple of seconds that her eyes had met mine, I had seen something behind the embarrassment and worry that made my blood run cold: want. Desire. What had shocked me even more was what I had seen in my eyes, reflected in her clear blue ones. My gaze was soft, filled with concern and worry and care. I knew that I cared about her, I just hadn't realized how strongly until I had seen it. That was lie… I knew how strongly I felt about her but I didn't want to be creepy so I pushed it down. I was shocked because I realized as I saw my reflection that they were too strong to be hidden and my attempts to do so were futile.

Regaining my equanimity, though without conscious thought, I walked towards her, crouching down in front of her and removing the glass from her vise grip, staring at her intently the whole time. She looked up then and instinct took over. I leaned forward, knowing that this was right, and just as she was tilting her head-

"What'd you lose? Not your necklace I hope." Simon's voice came from the doorway and we shot to our feet so fast we collided. As she stuttered excuses, my heart thumped wildly. How in the _hell_ had Simon managed to catch me off guard? That never happened.

I saw Chloe walking towards the door and panicked. She couldn't leave now. I needed to know if what I wanted to happen-which I had intended to make happen-would in fact _have_ happened if we hadn't been interrupted. Stupid Simon and his stupid timing.

"Chloe?" I call, trying to think of something-anything-that will keep her from leaving. But nothing comes. For the first time ever, I cannot think. She looks back at me, seeming to understand what I'm trying to do but coming up equally blank. So I mumble something ridiculously stupid about getting her an apple while she changes and she says sure and that's that. It takes all of my willpower not to follow her out of the room and up the stairs.

And Simon? Well he was leaning back on the couch, grinning, with a knowing and evil glint in his eyes that made him look scarily like Tori for a second. He was so going to pay later.

I'm not sure if Derek was a little OOC in this one... :S Let me know, please review :)


	5. Chapter 5

Once again, a big thanks to everyone who's reading! I really appreciate the support, you guys are the best :D

A BIG shout out to every single person who has reviewed. You're all amazing and every review means the world.

This is set during the Reckoning while the others are being captured and Derek is in the attic. It's in his POV.

Disclaimer: I still don't own DP or Derek, even though writing these one-shots have made me want to… :p

_The worst eight hours of life_

_DPOV_

I was on edge, to put it lightly. This-me hiding out in the attic while they were walking about downstairs, vulnerable to any danger-had been a bad idea. A _very_ bad idea. I should have never agreed to it. Even though Chloe's reasoning was flawless and undeniably accurate, it still didn't feel right. I, the most able protector, should not be cut off, hiding in the shadows while something terrible could happen to one of them in a second, without my knowledge. I was straining my eras to try to hear everything and anything, thought that quickly became troubling since I was in the attic and they were scattered about, tiptoeing around trying to be as quiet as possible. I realized suddenly that it was _too_ quiet, almost eerily so. If I had been in wolf form, my hair would have been raised, standing straight up.

"Liz," I whisper and a corner of the blanket I'm sitting on lifts itself into the air. "go and see-" But I was cut off by the sound of an engine starting outside. I rushed to the door, yanking it off its hinges trying to open it in my haste, and then down the stairs and hallway to the front door, not knowing that even _I _could move that fast. As I open the front door, I'm greeted by the sight of a white van pulling out of the driveway and onto the road. I see Margaret in the driver's seat and the outline of a man-who must be Russell-beside her. So Andrew had been right; while his own purpose had been to disband the Edison Group, that of his colleagues was slightly different: to get rid of the immeasurably powerful teenage supernaturals, liabilities in their eyes, before we managed to endanger the lives of others or the carefully constructed illusion people like us lived under in a sudden surge of unexpected power.

My instincts were screaming at me to run after the van but the part of my mind that was still managing to think coherently rationalized that even if I did managed to catch up to it, how could I possibly, even with super strength, stop a moving vehicle without getting hurt in the process. If I got hurt, I would be weakened and if I was weakened there was not a doubt in my mind that Margaret, who I know deemed a whole lot nastier than I first thought, would try to kill me. And if I was dead, the chances of the others surviving diminished significantly. I swallowed the lump that rose in my throat.

They were gone. They were at the mercy of two selfish and cold-blooded supernaturals. Simon, Tori and… oh god, Chloe were in danger.

I strode back through door and slammed my fist into the wall, plaster falling away at the moment of impact. I _can't _believe that they had been taken away from beneath me. I also _could not believe_ that I hadn't heard anything. That damn Margaret must have been really quiet.

I knew, _I knew, _that I shouldn't have left them alone and yet, if I hadn't, we still would have been sitting around waiting, anticipating for something to happen. I felt so helpless, knowing that I hadn't been there, hadn't save them. The anger and worry and panic I was feeling had been coming to a boiling point and that thought of Chloe just pushed me over the edge and I had lost control for that one second of blinding, all-consuming rage.

Yes, I was worried, panicked, about Simon; hell, I was even _concerned _for _Tori. _But I was terrified about Chloe because if anything happened to her… I don't know. I don't know what I'd do without her.

I thought about it then for a moment, losing her, because I needed to have an idea of how it would feel since it was such a distinct possibility. And that moment was hell. Pure hell. The wolf was whimpering and howling in crippling agony and I realized that trying to imagine Chloe gone was almost impossible, not only because the pain was almost numbing, but because Chloe had become so important, so vital to me, almost as if she were a part of me. I took deep breath-make that a few, attempting to regain control because standing in front of a damaged wall, scowling all the while panic was wreaking havoc to my mind, was not getting me any where. Once I thought I could trust me voice, I called, "Liz!" though I sounded a little worse for wear. I saw a pen and paper floating towards me.

"They're gone. Tori, Simon and Chloe. Can you find them?" She quickly scribbled 'brb' onto the paper and I was left to search the house, trying to piece together what had happened, attempting to collect as much information as I could before I took action.

I opened the door to the basement and the sight that greeted me froze me in place. When I had seen Gwen's lifeless body, albeit being shocked, I didn't feel much. I became even more apprehensive about Margaret, who was now, in my mind, completely homicidal, and although I felt bad that Gwen had died so young and so unnecessarily, I wasn't upset. I hadn't known her.

When I saw Andrew's inanimate body, lying in its own blood, I almost couldn't believe what I was seeing I was so shocked. Yeah, I hadn't seen Andrew in a few years and he had done all he could to keep me away from Dad, but I still didn't really consider him as one of the bad guys. He had committed an error in judgment and that was something we all do at some point. Even at his blackest hour, he didn't deserve the cards he had been dealt. I wasn't sad, not even upset really, but I _was_ aware of the loss. I was also aware of what this really was: it was no longer an attempt to fix their "mistakes" and I'm honestly not sure if it had ever been. It was a quest for control, survival of the fittest. In any group of people, even in the animal kingdom, the leader, the ruler, was the fittest, the strongest and therefore held the most power, was in control. In our community, we're considered threats to the people who run it, like Cabals or the Edison Group. They were worried that they would no longer be the strongest and they were prepared to do everything in their power to make sure that that didn't happen and Andrew's murder was an example of that.

I was still staring at his body when I saw the pen and paper in front of me. Blinking out of state of pensiveness, I saw that Liz had written 'I found them and I know where they're going. I can navigate. How are we getting there?'

"I'm driving." I said, and with one last glance at Andrew, I turned and went back upstairs and to the car, only pausing to grab the keys.

I was alert but getting tired of staring at the same stretch of highway and restless of being in the same position for so long. I had started fidgeting four hours ago. Tension filled the car and my knuckles were white against the steering wheel, my hands never leaving the ten and two position. I heard scribbling and looked over to read Liz's message: 'We're almost there, Derek. Don't worry too much for now. They're all still fine.'

"Thanks Liz." I said with sincerity. Liz had been like a godsend on this car ride from hell. She would periodically write down reassuring messages that were meant to try to ease my tension and worry, and even though her attempts were futile and she knew it, she did it nonetheless and I was grateful for her.

After another half an hour that consisted of getting off the highway_-finally-_and turning down a bunch of roads, she told me to turn down a street that looked abandoned and turned into a beaten path surrounded by woods, like it's construction had suddenly halted. The modest looking building came into view and I turned off the car, practically throwing myself. I hungrily inhaled the fresh air after eight long hours in the stifling confines of the car.

Great. We were here. How to get in was the next task at hand.

It's not exactly like I can waltz in there and ask to see them. I was wanted, a known target to the guards that were no doubt stationed inside, and stealth and inconspicuousness were of vital importance. I just didn't know how to go about it. All my frustration, worry, anxiety, irritation at my inability to think clearly and lack of movement for the past eight hours all suddenly collided and reacted like francium and fluoride, making me realize why Simon says I have terrible timing and entailing the worst possible reaction: I started to Change.

"Wait here." I said to Liz hoarsely. "I'll be right back."

Clearly confused by my request, I saw the pen and paper following me into the woods. They quickly retreated once I started stripping and the convulsions began. Through the gasps, pants, convulsions and realignment of muscle and bone, I couldn't figure out what was more painful: the Change or Chloe's absence.

Change completed, the wolf and his determination to just _get the hell inside_ took over and I strode purposefully toward the building. Liz, seeing me and quickly catching on, wrote 'I'll open doors.' I attempted a nod and continued on my way. When we reached the building the garage and the door leading inside were open and the only obstacle was a weak looking staff member who froze and stopped breathing when he saw me. I couldn't resist: I growled fiercely and started snapping my jaw. He booked it; ran out and never looked back. In a less serious situation, I probably would have barked a laugh.

I ran to the door and continued running up and down all the hallways, only pausing when Liz was needed, trying to sniff one of them out. Then _her _smell hit me and I increased my pace, following the scent. When I turned a corner and saw that Diane Enright was the only thing blocking me from Chloe, I didn't hesitate and jumped on her back, throwing her into the wall and knocking her unconscious. I didn't think I'd ever feel too bad over that because for those who thought Tori was a bitch, well they had yet to meet her mother, who completely _redefined _the word.

Flanks heaving, I looked up to see Chloe launching herself at me, despite her aunt's-who was evidently alive, thank god-protests and dropping to her knees, burying her face in my neck. It felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off my chest, like I could finally breath again. She was alive and safe for the moment and I couldn't-wouldn't-even begin to explain what or how much that meant.

"You're okay. I was so worried." she said.

I was so relieved that I couldn't even muster a snort that would have meant '_you_ were so worried?'

Despite how much I just wanted to stay right where I was, with Chloe tucked safely around me, I knew that we had to find the others. After a couple more seconds of bliss, and glares/looks of shock from Lauren, we forged on.

P.S. Thank you to Alasyn (Amethyst-Blood-Crimson-Tears) for the suggestions that I'm now working to on :)

If anyone else has any suggestions or ideas, let me know. Please R&R! :)


	6. Chapter 6

To each and every person who reads this story, it would be nothing without you so you deserve a big thanks.

To every single person who has reviewed, you are amazingly awesome and I appreciate all the comments and suggestions so much.

I apologize for this one shot because I'm going backwards instead of moving forwards. This is set during the Reckoning when Derek is on the roof and Chloe tries to get him to come down.

Disclaimer: My name is Lauren, not Kelley. I think it's safe to say that I don't own the series.

_The truth is revealed_

_DPOV_

I found myself on the roof, partly because I wanted to scope the surrounded area for foreign sounds or scents-which I _couldn't_ find traces of-that would corroborate Andrew's indication that the perimeter of the house was being guarded, and partly because I wanted some time alone to reflect upon everything that happened, all the newly acquired information that served as the final pieces to the puzzle that was our lives. After weeks of uncertainty and danger, months without Dad, the truth had finally come out and we had everything we needed to make sense of it all. And though the truth wasn't all that reassuring, I found comfort in the solid-facts, in knowing the hows and the whys behind every motive, every move, and every event. Of course now we had to figure out what to do with what we knew.

I couldn't see anything that indicated human presence and there wasn't a scent that I couldn't place, so that must mean that Andrew was lying about the guards stationed around the house. You never know though, so we need to operate around the idea that they might be out there, in which case we weren't going anywhere. If we did however assume that it was safe to leave, where would we go from there? When we spoke to Dad, he was informed of where we were and we couldn't exactly disappear without letting him know where we were going, in case he was on his way to us. To leave though, we would have to have a destination in mind, which we didn't, and to be able to tell Dad if we were leaving would require us to be able to get into contact with him again, which didn't seem very likely. And if we did leave and managed to meet up with Dad, where would we go from there, on the run again? I doubt it. We were wanted, four dangerous teenagers who knew too much and posed too much of a threat to not be taken care of-disposed of-as quickly as possible before we did something that couldn't be undone, like in a sudden surge of power, accidently expose a world every supernatural works so hard to keep protected, hidden. So that meant that we had to fight if we wanted to stay alive. If we lost that fight, it's safe to say that we would unquestionably be killed, all attempts at "rehabilitation" having gone to hell. But if we came out on top, sure, we'd be free, safe, but would we be able to save more than just our lives in the process? What about the supposedly "rehabilitated subjects?" Would it be right to leave them in the dark, letting them believe that they were ill? Or should we try to find them, shedding light on what they truly are. There was Rae, who I didn't particularly care for, and Chloe's aunt-who I desperately hoped was alive for Chloe's sake-to consider too. Would Rae want to join our band of misfits? Would Chloe's aunt, who hated me, want Chloe to stay with us? Or would she take her away and try to reintegrate her into "normal" society, attempting to shield her from all the bad in the world? My mind started reeling at the thought of Chloe not being with us, not being with me. She couldn't leave, she just couldn't, and I stubbornly refused to examine the possibility for the time being.

Over the past few weeks, Chloe became a fixture in my life. Someone I could depend on when everything else was going awry. I depended on her to keep me in line, with her unwillingness to take my bullshit, as much as I depended on her smile to make everything seem significantly better. Plus, there was now this _thing _between us that we needed to figure out and that I hoped-oh god, did I hope-would go somewhere. We were on the precipice of something big. I could feel it. A growl escaped from my throat when I thought of the interruptions we keep encountering, first in the parlor and then in the library. What I wanted most was time alone with Chloe, where I could sit her down and lay all the cards on the table and in turn find out-hopefully, _finally_-how she felt too and wanted to proceed. I wanted to let her know how I felt but I also wanted, needed, for her to know _how_ she made me feel, why I reacted the way I sometimes do. My thoughts went back to the night of my last Change* when I was trying to explain just that to her but couldn't, was disabled by the debilitating pain of the oncoming change. That night, I wanted to tell her why scaring her was sometimes exactly what I wanted to do.

The thing is, is that, for the better part of my life, people have cowered away, instinctively knowing that I was a predator. They also disliked what they saw and disregarded me. Like any human or animal, self-preservation kicked in to help me deal with the constant rebuff of society. Then I met Chloe. And she didn't shy away from me; she even seemed interested in what she saw. When she got glimpses into my life, she didn't turn her nose up in disdain like I was used to. She came back accepting and asking for more. While that drew me in and made me want for Chloe to get to know me, there was still a part of my mind that was waiting in anticipation for the rebuff I had come to expect, prepared to build the walls self-preservation had originally built and Chloe had cracked, back up. The contradicting feelings were at times overwhelming and it was easier to try to scare Chloe away-like I seemed to do with everyone else, but the girl apparently had no survival instinct-than have to decide what feeling to let dominate and which to allow to become a memory. The whole thing was exasperating! I wasn't great with words. I did well with actions. If it weren't completely inappropriate, inacceptable, inconsiderate and not to mention rude, I would just kiss Chloe and explain later. But alas, kissing her without warning could basically be considered assault, and I was therefore, not at liberty to act upon what I wanted to do. So I was stuck with these tacit feelings that were driving me insane and the dreaded thought of knowing that I would soon have to voice them.

Well, speak of the devil. I heard Chloe coming up the stairs, her footsteps so distinct to my ears.

"Oh, this is a great idea. The guy they're most likely to shoot is standing on the roof, giving them a perfect target." she said sarcastically.

What a pleasant greeting. There wasn't even any around, as far as I could tell and these eyes and ears _do not _lie. "They won't see me up here."

She gave me a look, a mix between incredulousness and a glare. I sighed, wanting her to calm down and stop overreacting and sat down. "Okay?"

"I don't think it's safe for you to be up here."

"Just a few more minutes." I took off my coat and set it down beside me. "Sit down here, between me and the chimney, it's safe." I figured now was as good a time as any to talk to her. We were alone and with our death as an imminent possibility, I wanted to make sure she knew how I felt.

"It's not me I'm worried about." Oh yeah, I temporarily forgot. She was ridiculously selfless, never worried about herself.

"I'm fine." Which I was. Besides the mental turmoil, I was fine.

"How do you know that? They could have night vision goggles, sniper rifles…" the corners of my mouth twitched, a smile trying to escape. I didn't want her to think that I was laughing at her. The girl watched too many movies. What did she think this was? James Bond?

"You're not coming inside, are you?" Truthfully, I was enjoying the fresh air and just in case there was something that had managed to evade my senses, I wanted to be out here so I would know right away.

"I will. Just sit down. I want to talk to you."

"And I want you to come in. we can talk there." She was being stubborn now. She was worried, about _me, _and knew what I was like.

"I don't smell anyone out here. I think Andrew's lying."

"Please Derek? Come inside?" It's hard to explain why I didn't want to do just that. I just needed to be out here on guard, just in case. If something were going to happen then I would know and I could protect Chloe and Simon… and Tori too.

"In a minute."

She turned and walked away. "Chloe…" I called, not wanting her to leave and sorry at having drove her away _yet again_ and knowing that this battle of wills was going to mean something later.

Five minutes later I was still on the roof when Simon came up, after having conferred with Chloe.

"D, why are you doing this?" he asked exasperatedly.

"Doing what? I just wanted to scope the area to see if I could see or smell anything."

"Can you?"

"No."

"Then why are you still up here Derek. There apparently isn't anything around so why are you still standing on the roof?" Simon was purposefully pushing me and I hated it.

"Simon…" I warned.

"No Derek. Don't 'Simon' me. If there is no threat why are you here?"

Simon knew just as well as I did why I was up here. I didn't know why he was doing this to me.

"Simon, why are you doing this?" I practically growl.

"I don't know. Why don't you tell me?"

"I have no idea why you're interrogating me Simon. You of all people should know why I'm still up here. To be safe, to tread on the side of caution because if something or someone did manage to get past me then at least I'd still be up here and be able to be aware of it. And then I could figure out how to deal with it." By the end of saying all this, my anger was on a tight leash. I couldn't risk raising my voice, but I couldn't control the irritation that seeped into it.

"You mean that you'd figure out how to protect Chloe and I. right?"

Simon and I have been brothers for eleven years. He _knows_ about this, he knows how it works. And I know that he knows because Dad has explained it to him.

"Simon." I growl. "I don't know why you're asking questions you already know the answer to. I protect Pack first and foremost and you know that."

"Yeah bro, I do know that. I've known that for a long time. But what I don't know is why you're being selfish and won't come down."

Selfish? What the hell? Where is Simon getting off on this? "Selfish? Please tell me how I'm being selfish." It was getting hard to keep my anger in check, but I managed and settled on glaring daggers at him.

"Dad and I have accepted a long time ago how you are. We've resigned ourselves to the fact that we can't change you. But there's not only Dad and me for you to consider now. There's Chloe too, whom I know you care about, whether you're willing to tell me or not. I'm not blind and naïve Derek," I tried to cut him off but he just help up his hand. "I see the way you look at her. And you're being selfish by putting her through this crap. She cares about you too and she's worried about you. And you're too stubborn and set in your ways to acknowledge that and do something about it." He said, poking me in the chest in the process.

We had subconsciously moved towards each other during the argument and we were now less than a foot a part, me glaring at him and he staring defiantly back. Simon looked victorious. He knew he had won. I couldn't say anything or try to defend myself, because he was right, he was so right. His arguments were presented perfectly and I realized he must have planned this out, the little devil. He knew he had me cornered but I didn't want him having the last word. Just as I was taking a breath to say something about being up here so I _could _protect Chloe wasn't selfish when Tori came out. Lovely. Her snide remarks were all I needed right now.

"Sorry to interrupt the bromance, but I thought I should let you know that Chloe is gone and she left a note before you found out for yourself and chewed my head off for not telling you." she said, looking pointedly at me and holding the note in her hand. When the words 'Chloe is gone' left her mouth, I started panicking and my protectiveness-which had lately been blurring with the line of possessiveness-flared up. If _anything_ happened to her, whoever was responsible would get it. Then I would have to deal with the grief.

"Note." I growled. Tori handed it over wordlessly. After I scanned it once, my worry evaporated and anger took its place. Then I read it again, carefully, making sure that I hadn't misread or misinterpreted what Chloe had written. But no, I hadn't. She had left! Gone to check out the perimeter because she was oh so equipped to that. Not. She was _so_ going to get it when we found her.

"Let's go. Follow me and keep quiet." Simon, who had been looking between Tori, me and the note and back again, asked, "What's happening? Is Chloe all right? Where are we going?"

Tori saved me the trouble of answering, which I wouldn't have done in my impatient and angry state. "We're off to find wolf-girl." I growled and turned around, starting for the door, leaving them to follow me.

*Thank you Amethyst-Blood-Crimson-Tears for the suggestion.

Please review :) I'm not sure about this one, but i always wondered why Derek had been on the roof and what Simon had said to him.

Thanks again for all the support!


	7. Chapter 7

To all the readers, thank you for reading, you keep the story going :)

To all my reviewers, you spoil me with feedback and suggestions* and I am forever grateful.

*I take all suggestions for possible one-shots into consideration and get a feel for them; but I won't post them if I feel that they're not my best work. You guys deserve more than a satisfactory story. Thought you guys should know :)

This is set during the Reckoning when Lauren is telling Derek of her sacrificial plans and making him promise to get Chloe out of the headquarters.

Disclaimer: I know, I was upset too when I found this out, practically inconsolable… but I'm not Kelley Armstrong.

_The things we do for the ones we love_

_DPOV_

Lauren kept giving Chloe and I weird looks, which was odd and irritating because we weren't doing anything to merit them. They were a mix of apprehensiveness, shock and an adamant unwillingness to believe what she had witnessed. It looked as if she were seeing Chloe for the first time and coming up for a whole new set of reasons not to like me. After what seemed like hours under her scrutiny, but was mere minutes, she finally said, "Derek? Can I speak to you?" I stiffened and glanced down at Chloe, knowing this could only be about one thing: She was going to order me to keep my paws-no pun intended-of her precious niece. Chloe tried to dissuade her aunt, saying, "W-we don't have time to-"

"It'll just take a second. Derek? Please?" she asked, not taking her eyes off me. I relented, only because her voice held something I couldn't quite place, a mix of desperation and pained acceptance. As I followed her to the corner she had waved me to, I felt like stepping in front of her and blocking her path and asking, rather sarcastically, if she _really _felt that this was the _ideal_ time to be telling me to stay away from Chloe. But I held my tongue. Not only because I desperately wanted her not to hate me since I didn't plan to leave Chloe, but also because I remembered how her voice had sounded and along with her serious demeanor, whatever she had to say was-to her, at least-important, and curiosity got the better of me.

Then she told me.

I was taken aback, but quickly recovered and proceeded to flat out refuse to do what she asked of me. She intended to sacrifice herself; provide a distraction while we stole away. My end of the bargain was to get Chloe out of here, which meant preventing her from turning back to her aunt in a vain attempt to save her.

At first, I stood my ground, stubbornly refusing to listen to her reasoning.

"No Lauren. Absolutely not. We'll figure out another way to get out. But I will not condone that. I am not knowingly going to send you to your deathbed. And I will not do that to Chloe, not a chance." I said, jutting my chin out defiantly, daring her to try to change my mind. Stubbornness ran in the family apparently, because Lauren would not give up.

"Despite my objections regarding you," I wasn't sure whether she meant her objections to me as a person or her objections to me dating her niece, "I know one thing for sure: you want what's best for Chloe. If you do this, you'll give her that."

I started shaking my head. I highly doubted that the death of her aunt, her surrogate parent, would be 'what was best for Chloe.' My doubt and thoughts must have shown on my face because she said,as if reading my mind, "Let me rephrase. You want Chloe to be safe. And this is the surest and securest way of guaranteeing that."

She took my arm when I hung my head in defeat, nodding at what she was saying. I hated myself for it, absolutely hated myself, but Lauren was right. Her being right did not however change the fact that I was agreeing to let Chloe be robbed of yet another family member-one that had worked so hard to provide the motherly love that Chloe had lost.

And I was conspiring to take that away from her. I could only hope that one day she would be able to forgive me, because I knew that it would take me a long time to forgive myself-if I ever did.

Still holding my arm, she leaned closer to me, her face taut with urgency and despair. 'I know it doesn't seem like it, but this is the right thing-the only thing-to do. All I need you to do is get her out because we both know she'll fight when she realizes what's happening. Please Derek, _please_ promise me that you'll get her out. I need to know that I can count on you."

For a second, something shifted in her eyes and I could see the fear there. Fear for her inevitable demise. Fear for Chloe. And yet. Here she stood, bravely and graciously facing death to save the person she loved and the people she cared for, begging me tacitly to cooperate with her unwavering gaze. I could no longer refuse. Not when she was being this brave. I needed to be brave then too. brave enough to hurt Chloe so I could save her. My head was still hung-in submissiveness or shame, I wasn't sure-but I sighed and finally looked at her in the eyes.

"All right. I promise." I said solemnly, my voice low. It was her turn to sigh, relieved, like a difficult decision had been made. She nodded in acknowledgement, her gaze steadily fixed on me. I turned and walked straight to Chloe, rumbling, "You ready?" It felt like the guilt was eating away at my insides.

"Was she telling you to stay away from me?" she asked with concern etching her tone.

I paused, wanting to break promise to Lauren right then and there and tell he the truth. I felt terrible lying to Chloe, as if I were dirty or tainted. She had never lied to me. She didn't deserve this. Unfortunately, my desire to protect her outweighed my desire to tell her the truth.

"Yeah." I said, squeezing her hand out of her aunt's sight, not wanting to be insolent or disrespectful. "It's okay. We're good."

She looked relieved and we headed for the hall.

This one is kind of short, but this scene called to me. I needed to post something until I write the next one, which will be longer and about the time Derek finds Chloe in the crawl space. Anyways, let me know what you think. R&R :)


	8. Chapter 8

To all the readers, you're the driving force behind this story. Without you, it would be nothing.

To all the reviewers, I need to come up with a new word to describe how awesome you all are. My gratitude is undying.

Like promised, this is set during The Summoning when Chloe summons in the crawlspace.

_The dead come back to haunt us_

_DPOV_

Everyone was going out for the afternoon to the local pool; everyone except me, Chloe and Tori. Chloe didn't have a bathing suit and Tori was probably doped up into a trance after the meeting she had had with her mother, who was unbelievably cruel. I had seen Diane Enright a few times and I could tell by the way she presented herself, cool, superior and judgmental, that she was a bitch. There was no nicer or subtler way to put it. After hearing her conversation with Tori, my thoughts were confirmed. No kid, even Princess Victoria, deserved to be treated like that. If I felt like being generous, I could say that Tori came by the way she was honestly, having a parent like that. I wasn't in a particularly giving mood though and I believed that everyone has a say in who they are. Nurture can only mold a person so much before nature comes into play. I knew that better than anyone. I had been raised in a stable, fun, loving environment since the age of five, but when push came to shove and it all came down to it, what I was couldn't be ignored and I let the instinct that naturally wanted to dominate take over for one second and made the biggest mistake of life.

I had taken away a life.

That was why I was confined to the house, not allowed to leave. They were probably afraid that I'd purposefully and unremorsefully drown some innocent, unsuspecting bystander and then steal away, giving my "antisocial personality" tendencies free reign. It was irritating and discouraging. I liked to think-at least I hoped-that I wasn't _that_ big of a monstrosity. But what could I do? They had already decided that I was, and becoming a saint probably wouldn't even be able to change that.

I went to my session with Dr. Gill, which was uneventful and a sham on my part. She asked me how my new medication was working and I responded by listing its intended positive results that I had learned about on Wikipedia a couple of days before. I usually refused to use such a scientifically invalidated source, but I made an exception when it came to the research I did on the medication I was supposed to take. It wasn't like she'd ever know, she ate it up every time, and all I needed was a basic outline anyway. Then she asked me how I was feeling, which I thought was rather pointless because she had been the one who established two and a half months ago that I was incapable of feeling. Instead of saying that though, I said that I was okay and threw in how I was getting better at dealing with boredom, that I was less irritated when I was. She nodded approvingly and bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. It didn't matter. I could still see the almost manic pride shining in her eyes at my confession. She looked like I was her child who had just told her I had gotten accepted to an Ivy League school as opposed to her patient who had just admitted that he was getting better at handling boredom.

Inability to tolerate boredom. That was a sign of antisocial personality disorder. I don't enjoy being bored, I don't think anyone does, but I wasn't incapable of being in that state.

After I had been diagnosed, I spent three hours on the computer that night researching the disorder, the signs and symptoms and the causes and treatment options. After reading medical journals, studies, essays and exemplary cases, I was fairly certain that I didn't have ASPD. You needed to be over eighteen to be diagnosed-which I wasn't-and aside from the aggression and lying-which I _only_ ever did to Dr. Gill-I didn't exhibit any other indication that I had it. Plus, I would have had to display _at least_ three symptoms and had to have displayed them before the age of fifteen. I hadn't been a problem child. Up until two and a half months ago, I had never had behavioral problems. I was quiet, reserved. It wasn't a crime. If people wanted to mistake that for sullenness-which it wasn't-then so be it. They were obviously ignorant and that wasn't my problem.

Doing the research had helped me. Even though I knew, deep down, that I didn't have antisocial personality disorder, I had just wanted to know, to make sure, just in case. And the scientific jargon and facts had comforted me. They were the only things that could _still _comfort me as I sat around in this place with an erroneous label over my head, waiting for a break that would kick Simon's chivalrousness into high gear and get him and Chloe out. Simon _needed _to get out of here, _needed _to find Dad, who, as we sat around doing nothing, could be in serious peril.

At first, Simon hadn't wanted to leave without me; he was unmovable and would ignore me whenever I tried to reason with him. Even when I started getting mad, he refused to go, saying that he wasn't leaving without me.

Our conversations started moving in circles. I would explain to him that there were too many risks of confrontation in the streets and I didn't need to be responsible for ruining another life. I wasn't God, I didn't get that power. Simon would then proceed to call me stupid and tell me to stop blaming myself for something I couldn't have controlled. I would subsequently reason that I _could _have controlled it if I had taken a moment to think before I acted. He would argue that if I hadn't acted when I did, he'd have been stabbed and consequently bled to death. I would tell him to stop being melodramatic and that it hadn't been necessary to throw the kid into a wall, the result of my lack of clear thought. He would then sigh in exasperation, mutter something about me being impossible and go back to ignoring me until I let it go.

Now though, with Chloe in the mix, things had started to change. I could see Simon's resolve to not leave me behind start to weaken and all I needed to do was keep him moving in the right direction until it shattered completely.

Simon's that typical good guy who always tries to do the right thing. Chloe was an inexperienced, defenseless necromancer for which things were starting to get rocky and who couldn't hide her powers for much longer while living under this microscope. Throw in the fact that she was attractive, and Simon was now starting to trip over his feet trying to do the right thing. It was getting to the point for her where she actually needed the help too. If she kept slipping up, because of the unavoidable powers, it would get to the point where it would be get out or get sent away to a _real_ mental institution, which wouldn't be nearly as falsely welcoming as Lyle House, or…

The 'or' was a problem that started when Chloe saw Liz. And that raised a few questions and suspicions.

If Liz was in fact astral projecting like Chloe had suggested, she was doing it unknowingly, which I imagine would be difficult and highly unlikely. Not to mention that if Liz were astral projecting, that meant that she was a shaman. The likelihood of four supernaturals being randomly grouped together in the same place was near impossible because we were all so rare and dispersed.

Then there was the possibility that Chloe was seeing Liz's ghost, which would mean she were dead. That outcome was more believable. 25% of all people will be in an accident in their lifetime and 1 out of 140 will die. Liz could have died on the way to the hospital or in a completely unrelated accident. But I couldn't fully accept that explanation. There was something off about the whole situation one way or the other.

Finally, if someone were being paranoid or irrational or both, they might jump to the conclusion that Liz had been murdered. While the rational part of my mind scoffed at the thought-people, children, didn't get _murdered _because they were ill and weren't getting better-a stronger part, one governed by instinct, wouldn't let me push it aside and was giving me warnings to be wary and cautious.

Tired of all the questions and lack of answers and of problems I couldn't sit down and solve, I sat down to my math work, which always managed to calm me down and clear my head. I was really starting to get into the problems on advanced ordinary differential equations when I heard the oddest, most unbelievable thing: Tori was humming. And she wasn't humming the 'Jaws' theme song either. No. She sounded rather…content? That was shocking. The one sure thing about bipolar Tori is that she's never content. Ever. I immediately knew something was wrong. Then I remembered how Tori had sounded when she spoke of Chloe earlier today and how I had heard two steps of footsteps going downstairs, but only one coming back up. I added two and two together and tried to control the anxiety that was quickly spreading through my chest as my mind sped theories, each one wilder than the next, about what had happened with Chloe that made Tori so happy.

I left my room and started following Chloe's scent. Simon would _kill _me if anything happened to her while I was here and the plan might be jeopardized if he no longer had anyone to save. I gulped at the thought and quickened my pace; worry making my heart beat a little faster. It was inexplicable, but _I _didn't want anything to have happened to Chloe, I didn't want her in danger. I didn't have time to further examine the realization because I opened the door to the basement and heard it: Chloe's heart. It was beating unnaturally loud and dangerously fast, and I knew that whatever had happened-might still be happening-was terribly wrong. I ran down the stairs, her scent disappearing into the crawlspace. I opened the door and sight, sound and smell coincided.

Chloe was whimpering, cowering away from an arm, an arm composed purely of bone, which was attached to an equally skeletal body. The body in question was making odd moaning sounds, like it was trying to speak, and was thumping along, advancing on Chloe. The smell was the worst though not only could I smell the decay and the moth, I could also smell, almost feel, Chloe's terror, that was rolling off her in waves. After the moment I took to process, I rushed in. as I crawled towards her, I got a better look at her and saw that she had been gagged and I was guessing bound. Tori was crazy, she had problems. I knew that. I never thought she was homicidal though. Well, we all make mistakes. Chloe was writhing and crawling, trying with all her might to get out of here. I needed to stop her so she could fix this.

"Chloe! Stop. It's-" I began, but was cut off by her kick to my thigh. I hissed in pain and let out a curse. She wasn't as weak as she looked.

"Chloe!" I said, fingers curling around one of her arms, trying to prevent another outburst. She swung at me in a panic, obviously not realizing who I was and focused solely on getting out. I grabbed her other arm and yanked her off balance.

"Chloe. It's me. Derek." The effect of my words was instantaneous. She collapsed in my arms, probably relieved at no longer being alone. Having her there was an odd sensation all on its own, but I didn't have time to dwell. I _knew _she was terrified, but I also knew that she had to undo what she had done or we would have a serious problem on our hands. I ripped the gag away and the body made another sound, prompting her to scramble up.

"Th-th-there's-" The fear was kicking her stutter into high gear. She needed to calm down.

"Dead people, I know. They must have been buried down here. You accidentally raised them."

"R-r-raised-" Her breathing hitched another notch. I needed to get this under control or she would burst, from fear or from panic.

"Chloe, focus!" I grabbed her forearm, holding her still and pulling her closer. I needed to calm her down or she would never be able to fix this. "They won't hurt you. They aren't brain-eating movie zombies, okay? They're just dead bodies with their spirits returned to them." I said, conjuring up what knowledge I had on necromancers and their powers.

"I-I-I need to send them back." she said, finally seeming to absorb what I had been trying to get across.

"Yeah, that'd be the general idea." Strain sapped the sarcasm from my words. I was struggling to stay calm, to breathe evenly, because if I wasn't, she would assume that there was something to worry about and wouldn't be able to focus on the task at hand.

"O-okay, so how do I send them back?" she asked, assuming that I had all the answers. But I didn't. I didn't know _everything_. I wasn't an experienced necromancer and from what little I did know, you needed some sort of ritual to even attempt to return a spirit to its body.

"Derek?" she asked, shaking me from my silence.

"I…I don't know." I admitted grudgingly. I rolled my shoulders, trying to ease some of the tension. "You summoned them, Chloe. Whatever you did, undo it. Reverse it."

"I didn't do-"

"Just _try_." We needed to stop talking so she could start working.

She closed her eyes, repeating, "Go back. Back to your afterlife. I release you." Her heart was still thumping wildly though. The body was right behind her and in a guttural, low voice, said, "Help. Help." Her eyes snapped open and her heart sped up. She needed to focus and stay calm or she would never be able to send it back. I muttered a curse and tightened my hold on her arms; reminding her she wasn't alone and hopping the physical reassurance would help.

"Keep your eyes closed, Chloe. Just remember, they won't hurt you."

A bony fingertip touched her elbow and she jumped.

"It's okay Chloe. I'm right here. Keep going." These words seemed to comfort her for she closed her eyes once again and I could hear her heart slowing down and quieting, her breath coming more easily. As she did whatever it was necromancers do, I kept my eye on the body and let all that had happened sink in, catch up with my mind, which had been previously solely occupied with finding Chloe and calming her down.

Chloe had summoned a spirit back into its body. She had _raised_ the dead. A fifteen year old who had just found out she was a necromancer and probably still hadn't accepted it, _should not_ be able to do that. From what I've read and heard, raising the dead required a complicated ritual and a lot of power and even then, there isn't a guarantee that you'd be able to do it. Doing it unconsciously wasn't normal. I snorted internally at the thought. I don't think that _I_ was the best judge of what was and wasn't normal. I was a werewolf for God's sake. One thing was for sure though. There was now no doubt that Chloe was a necromancer, and a damn powerful one at that. Unfortunately, this misfortune raised more questions too. _How_ was Chloe this powerful? _Why_ were there dead bodies buried in the crawlspace of a by no means ancient house?

I realized with relief that the body hadn't moved in a while and was no longer making sounds.

"They're gone, Chloe." I whispered, afraid to disturb the silence. She twisted sideways and the once-again corpse fell at her feet. I let out a long, deep breath that I hadn't realized I had been holding and ran my fingers through my hair. She did it. She was relatively okay. _Thank god_ she was okay. The latter was like a mantra, replaying itself in my head. I realized that I should actually ask if she was okay, as opposed to assume she was, considering that she must be going through mental turmoil and Tori might have inflicted more damage that I could see.

"I'll live." she said, in a voice that would have been wry had it not been shaking.

I took another relief filled deep breath, and then looked at the body.

"Guess we've got some work to do." It wasn't as if we could leave it here for someone to find. She took a deep breath, regarded the body almost unwillingly, and nodded.

This one is longer and I wasn't sure if I should continue, do a part two of this one-shot. Maybe cover Chloe's meeting with her aunt that Derek no doubt overheard and their meeting with Gill and Davidoff? And maybe Chloe's confrontation in the bathroom? I don't know, let me know. R&R :)


	9. Chapter 9

I feel like I'm starting to sound like a broken record-and I apologize for that-but I don't care. ALL the readers and ALL the reviewers must be thanked for all their support! The story keeps going because of you amazing people :)

This is set during The Summoning when Chloe confronts Derek in the bathroom.

Disclaimer: As much as I wish that I were in fact Kelley Armstrong, sadly I'm not. I don't own Derek-or anyone else, of course-no matter how much I dream I do.

_Not a dumb blonde_

_DPOV_

I walked into the bathroom, promptly at eight, ready to take a shower and let the warm water wash away the day's tension and hopefully help with the fever I was starting to get. Shutting the door and turning the light on, I turned toward the mirror and let out a yelp of surprise. I didn't know what was more shocking: seeing Chloe, looking determined with her arms crossed, or the fact that she had managed to catch me off guard.

That didn't happen. Ever.

I figured it was because I already reeked of Chloe, so I hadn't been able to pick up on her scent properly and realize that it was out of place. Reeked probably wasn't the finest choice of word. On the contrary, Chloe smelt quite good, like honey and vanilla with a hint of lavender. And it wasn't even perfume; she naturally smelt like that. I have never encountered someone whose scent was quite so…inviting.

Regardless, her appealing scent was the last thing I should be contemplating; far behind wondering _why the hell_ she was staking me out in the bathroom.

"Are you nuts? What are you doing here?" I hissed, questioning whether the afternoon's events had finally caught up to, and possibly cracked, her. If anyone besides Simon saw this or heard us, they'd think I was assaulting her and call a code red.

She ignored me, instead walking past me and locking the door. _What_ was she doing in here? I'm sure it wasn't to join me in the shower. _That _was not a road I wanted to go down at the moment and I struggled to figure out what could logically justify her being in here. The plan. It must be the plan she wanted to talk about.

"If you want to discuss the plan, this really isn't the best place." I really thought she had more sense than this.

I watched as she crossed to the shower and turned the cold water on.

"Great. Now they're going to think we're showering together. Maybe we can just tell them we were washing off the crawl space dirt and trying to conserve water." I muttered angrily. Just thinking about that seemed to suck up all the oxygen in the small room. I really just wanted her to tell me what she was doing here so I could shower. Alone.

She planted herself in front of me, crossing her arms, with accusation glinting in her eyes, and said, "You set me up."

_Oh. _Shit. She couldn't have possibly figured out the master plan, the one that didn't just include Simon's escape. I needed to do damage control though. If she had managed to figure out her position of vital importance in the plan, she'd back out, insulted at being used and refuse to leave, and we'd be back at square one, with Simon having no motivation to leave and refusing to go anywhere without me. I opened my mouth, prepared to fervently deny knowing what she was talking about, but there was no use. I could see it in her eyes. She had already figured it all out. She didn't need confirmation. This was confrontation. I settled on scowling-a default reaction to anything that hadn't gone as planned-upset that she had seen right through me and that the plan was for sure about to go to hell. I let myself hope though that I would be able to salvage it.

"All this time, I've been trying to figure out why you want to help me. Why do you care if I'm a necromancer? Why do you care if I get booted out? Why stick your neck out for me, like you did this afternoon?" she asked heatedly.

"I just want-" Apparently having decided that she wasn't taking any bullshit, she interrupted me, saying, "To help. Sure, you're obnoxious and arrogant, but underneath, there's a decent guy who wants to help a fellow supernatural. Yeah, right. There has to be another reason. Today I found it: Simon."

I crossed my arms, defensive. "Yeah, Simon wanted me to be nice to you. Okay? Can I have my shower now? Alone?" I wanted to dissuade her, get her to leave before she could further elaborate. Plus, what I told her was true. Simon _did_ tell me to be nice to her and she wasn't as bad as most people, so I didn't mind obliging.

"You want Simon to run away; to find your dad. But he won't go without you. He needs a reason to go right now. So you gave him one. The designated damsel in distress."

She had done it. She had managed to see right through all the pretences, through _me, _to the core of things, something even Simon still hadn't managed to do.

I tried once more in vain to deny having any knowledge to what she was talking about. "I don't know what you're talking about." I muttered, but there was no use to lie. It was so blatantly obvious that I was, by avoiding her penetrating blue gaze. But I couldn't lie, not while looking her right in the eye anyway. Chloe was too good to be lied to.

She plowed on, fresh anger bubbling to the surface. "Here I was, a real necromancer, naïve and lost. Perfect bait. Just keep pushing us together, make a big deal of how helpless I am, and eventually he'll pull on his shining armor. Great plan. But it still lacks something: stakes. In any great thriller, your hero needs three things: goal, motivation and stakes. Goal: find you missing dad. Motivation: help the poor necromancer chick. The stakes were missing though. You needed to put your damsel in actual distress. What if she was about to be transferred to a real mental hospital? Where she'd be out of Simon's reach and beyond help? Or worse, where she might die, the victim of some evil plan. So you get Tori to-"

"No!" I cut her off there, raising my hands, shocked. I would _never, ever, _do something like that. I would never set homicidal, maniac Tori on some poor unsuspecting soul. Especially Chloe, I felt, rather than thought. "I did not have anything to do with that. Even if Tori would get close enough to me to carry on a conversation-which you may have noticed, she won't-I wouldn't do that. I did nothing to _make_ them transfer you." All still true.

"Okay, so you just took advantage of the situation." she determined. She took a moment then, giving me time to respond. Again, it was useless. She already knew. She had come this far, she must have figured out the rest. Taking my silence as an answer, she continued, "When I first told you about seeing Liz, you brushed it off. But then you realized this could work in your favor, so you changed your tune with Simon. You planted the seeds of doubt, then waited for them to sprout. That's why you didn't argue when I offered to be the one transferred. That's exactly where you wanted me. You manipulated the situation and you lied-"

"I never lied." I interjected. Call me what you want, but a liar I am not. I don't lie, not outright. That's deceitful and I don't respect that.

She fixed me with a look, completely disbelieving. "You heard the doctors talking about transferring me yesterday?"

I shoved my hands in my pocket, just for something to do before I had to sheepishly admit that I _might_ have _slightly_ distorted the truth. She really had worked this all out. "I heard them talking about you and they seemed to be suggesting-"

"Okay, you didn't lie. You exaggerated."

I scowled, frustrated because she seemed so opposed to even try to see that I was doing the right thing and because she seemed to not believe she was in any danger. "You _are _in danger. The more I think about Liz-"

"Cut the crap, okay, Derek? You got your wish. Simon's going. I'm going with him. You're right. He needs to get out and find is father. Of course, you could have saved us all this trouble by just going with him yourself. But that might be dangerous. And he's not your father so it's not really your problem-"

I shot towards her so fast it took a moment for my mind to catch up to my body. It was one thing for her to confront me and call me out on my bullshit. That I could understand. And however frustrated and inconvenienced it made me feel, she still had a right to do it. I had used her and it was understandable that she was angry and wanted to vent. She however _had no right_ to attack me with erroneous and derogatory accusations.

"Is that what I think, Chloe?" I demanded, looming over her. She had stumbled back, but now stood her ground, glaring right back up at me.

"I don't know what you think Derek. Simon says you won't go. A stupid reason according to him. So maybe it's an excuse. Maybe you just don't want to bother."

Finally, a flaw in her calculations and I was not going to pass up the chance to set her straight. Time to call her out on _her _bullshit.

"An excuse?" I laughed bitterly. I backed away from her with difficulty, her anger and her scent were so tangible and were mixing with my anger that I was struggling for mental control, something I couldn't afford to let slip. She needed to understand without knowing too much.

"You read my file, right?"

"I-" I cut off what was undoubtedly denial.

"I know you read it that night you and Rae pretended to be raiding the kitchen."

"Only because of what you did. I had to know-" She did have a right to know, especially after what I had so stupidly and so recklessly done. I _threw_ her across a room. I bruised her. I couldn't believe she was still wondering why I wasn't leaving.

"How dangerous I was. I don't blame you. But you got your answer, right? You know _exactly_ how dangerous I am." I said emphatically.

She swallowed, evidently nervous by the turn in conversation. "I-"

"You know what I did, and you think I should be walking the streets? I'm exactly where I belong." The words were so true, so painfully true that they hurt to say. I had ended a life in a second, with a flick of my wrist. I was a predator, by nature and I don't think a naturally apt killer with anger issues should be roaming around with the ever-present possibility of overwhelming emotion, loss of control.

Inexplicably, her gaze softened, almost unconsciously, and she looked away, finally breaking our stare down. After a moment, she looked back at me, not with pity, but with… empathy? What the _hell?_ Where was this coming from? How could she manage that? "You must have had a reason for doing it." she said, almost certainly, like she knew me, understood who I was, _what_ I am.

"Did I?" she tried looking away, but I was having none of that. "Is that what you want, Chloe? To hear my reason? My excuse?" Of course that was what she wanted. She didn't want to believe, to plainly accept, that I could be, that I was unquestionably as awful as my file made me out to be. But she wanted the truth, and I wouldn't deny her that. "That the guy pulled a gun on me and if I hadn't thrown him into a wall, I'd be dead? Well, that's not how it happened how it happened. There's a kid out there who'll never walk again and I have no excuse. It's my fault. _All _my fault. Our dad disappearing. Simon being thrown in here. I-"

I snapped my mouth shut, having said too much, all unconsciously. Her unwavering blue eyes were so soft and full of deep understanding, that they seemed to have pulled these facts from the abyss that I had buried them in, but nonetheless carried around everyday. After having taken a moment to reorganize my thoughts and regain control, I said, "So, yeah, I want Simon out, and I'll do anything to get him out, but it's not like I'm putting you in danger. You're getting something out of it. You don't have any reason to complain." She'd be with _Simon, _for God's sake. Caring, considerate, charming Simon. Oh, yeah, poor Chloe.

She stared at me for a second, seeming to recollect her thoughts, and then said slowly, "No danger? I'm running away. From the home. From my family. From my _life."_

"You'll be with Simon. Don't pretend that's any big hardship."

"What?" she asked, genuinely confused.

"You know what I mean. A few days alone with Simon? That'll be tough. And it means a lot to him. _A lot. _He'll never forget that."

She widened her eyes. "Oh my God, do you think so? Really? That's so cool. I bet he'll ask me to go steady and everything. We can send love letters between my juvenile detention center and his, and maybe they'll let us meet at the coed dances…"

She got a look for that one.

"You really think I'm an idiot, don't you?" Then she shot her hand up. "No, don't answer that. _Please. _News flash: getting a boyfriend is not at the top of every girl's priority list. Right now, it ranks about as low on mine as you can get-way below such trivial concerns as getting my life back together."

"All right-" I was about to admit that she _did_ have a point and it might not be as easy as I'm making it seem.

"After this is over, I wouldn't be surprised if Simon wanted to never see me again. Just to put this all behind him. You know what? That's fine. Because I need to find out what happened to Liz. And I want to help Simon because it's the right thing to do, not because I think he's sooo cute. I might not be a genius like you-"

"I'm not-"

"But I'm smart enough to know this isn't going to be some grand romantic adventure. I'm running away. I'll be living on the streets. Even if we do find your dad, I'm not sure he's going to be able to fix my life. I'm not sure it can be fixed."

"So I'm supposed to feel grateful for you going?" All Chloe was saying was completely true and valid. But something in me wanted to argue. Chloe wasn't backing down and I wasn't used to that.

"I never said-" she stopped as I loomed over her once more.

"You need to get out of here just as much as Simon does, maybe more. You might not see the danger you're in, but I do. And I'm worried." I said honestly.

"Worried? About me?" she sounded as if I had just told her I was actually a girl. As if it were so hard to believe that I could feel anything besides anger and irritation.

I shrugged. "Sure. Concerned. You know" I couldn't really look her in the eye, in fear that they would pull the truth from me again. I couldn't exactly tell her that in the few days I had known her, I had started to worry about her. "Yeah, we need you, but I _do _want to help a fellow supernatural. We gotta stick together." I said, sneaking a glance her way.

"Don't you dare." she said warningly. Chloe seemed to have the annoying talent of seeming to see right through me.

"What?" again, I cowardly avoided eye contact.

"You're right. I do need help. My life is falling apart and maybe someday I'll look back on this as the biggest, stupidest mistake I've ever made, but at this moment, it's the only solution I see. You need me to be your designated damsel in distress? Okay. But don't _ever_ say you're doing this for me. This has nothing to do with me. Don't you dare pretend it does." And with that, she turned and walked out, closing the door firmly behind her.

I stood there, stunned, for a couple of seconds, then made my way into the shower, refusing to think about what had just happened until I was in my room and had time to mull it over.

I lay in my bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to Simon snore softly beside me. I was honestly still a little taken aback. I had _completely _misjudged Chloe and that doesn't happen to me. Usually I can have someone pegged within the first five minutes of meeting them. Chloe was different, and I hadn't realized it. So far, she had one everything I had expected she would. She seemed helpless and frail, perfect for what she called a damsel in distress. She stuttered and blushed when she was with Simon and today, she had vehemently denied that we had been _together _in the crawl space, as expected, because really, regardless of how good she might be, she wasn't about to let people think her standards were that low. I thought she was just one of those girls who, while nicer than most, didn't have trouble getting what she wanted with her blonde hair, small stature and big, blue eyes and didn't have to do much for herself.

Then today happened and all my assumptions went out the window.

After the initial shock and terror of having raised the dead, she handled it rather calmly and seemed to take in stride that she was capable of such a thing. Then, during her meeting with her aunt, she had demonstrated that uncanny and unexpected ability of hers to hear what was being said and understand what was being meant. And while it hadn't surprised me that she had volunteered to be transferred-Chloe was like that, always wanting to cater to other people-I had been surprised that she did so without hesitation, so certainly.

I also couldn't forget our little showdown in the bathroom. She had managed to figure out _my _plan entirely. Every part she could justify and all of my interjections were scoffed at and handled with a rebuttal. She was sharp and intelligent and most shockingly, was so convicted that _she would not back down_.

I was not an easy person to look in the eye, let alone argue with, what with the rough exterior, the large size, deep voice and the vibes I naturally gave off that told people I was a threat, a danger. I towered over Chloe; I had a good foot and five inches on her. But tonight, that hadn't mattered. She matched me glare for glare and stood her ground. It was unfathomable that the stuttering mess that was Chloe could have, in lack of more appropriate terms, so much balls. She had put me in my place, which I wasn't used to.

Most importantly, was the way I reacted to her. Like today, after we had taken care of the crawl space incident I had the most unshakable urge to get mad at her, to demand that she tell me why she had followed Tori and put herself in danger. It was irrational. She had just summoned and sent back the dead and I had wanted to yell at her? And tonight, she had managed to get a rise out of me and find out more that I had intended to share.

I don't get mad really, surprisingly. I get irritated and frustrated, but not necessarily mad. The only people I talk to-talked to-is Dad and Simon, and because they know me and how I am, they don't make me angry. Chloe had inadvertently known _exactly_ how to push my buttons and she had gotten me to react. And while I regretted letting the anger take over for a couple of seconds, it didn't scare me, which was bewildering. One of the things I'm the most concerned about is letting my emotions take over because I don't know what I could do when that happened. The fact that I was not afraid of the anger that had flared in my chest tonight was new and I realized was because Chloe had not been afraid. She hadn't been scared of me, so there was no reason for me to be scared. I _knew-_rather felt- that I would never hurt her, so letting myself get mad, have an argument, wasn't the end of the world because I knew I wouldn't do something I'd regret. And having her not fear me felt surprisingly good. After having thrown her across a room and knowing what I had done, for her not to be scared to stand up to me, to argue with me, was just so new I didn't know what to do about it. She had made me feel normal, I suppose, which was comical considering I was anything but.

After the exhausting day, I had almost all but forgotten about the fever that had started to manifest itself earlier today. It was an odd occurrence, considering I never got sick, but I supposed there was always a first for everything. It suddenly came back, with startling force, as if to punish me for not taking notice earlier on. Not only was I unbearably hot, I was terribly itchy too. I let my heavy lids close, hopping that I would be able to sleep in so much discomfort.

"Derek." I pushed myself farther into my pillow; sure I must be dreaming that voice. "Derek." The voice said again, still softly but with more volume than the first, this time accompanied with a tap at the door. I opened my eyes slowly, blinking back the much needed sleep that I hadn't expected to get. Her scent suddenly filled my nostrils and I knew I couldn't be dreaming. I got up a bit unsteadily and went to answer the door, trying to prepare myself for the third round in my Chloe-fied day.

**Wow, this one was long. I'm not sure if Derek sounds too angsty or if I completely killed this by dragging it out so much. Tell me what you think. R&R please :)**


	10. Chapter 10

First off, I would like to apologize for taking so long to update. I started work on Monday and have been working everyday for eight hours since then. Between that, practicing piano, and doing other stuff, I haven't had a lot of time to write. Plus there's the fact that there is one one-shot I've been trying to write and cannot for the life of me get right. This weekend, I'll be tackling that. With that said:

Thank you to all the readers for your ongoing support; you're all amazing!

To the reviewers, every single comment means so much to me, I honestly cannot wipe the stupid grin off my face after reading one for like five minutes.

Some people wanted another Chloe confrontation, more specifically when she gets Derek Tylenol and talks to the ghosts in the Summoning. I tried it and it didn't work, so I give you the next best thing! This is set during the Awakening when the street urchin attacks Chloe.

_Not again_

_DPOV_

I turned back around, looking at Chloe. "I mean it, stay right here." I said sternly, trying to command her to remain unmoving until I got back; though knowing I'd be better off furiously hopping that, for once, she would just _listen to me. _Simon interrupted my silent prayers as soon as we were out of ear shot and said-rather chastised-"Derek, you shouldn't be so hard on Chloe. She obviously didn't intend to do _that_. You shouldn't be blaming her and you shouldn't condemn her; she made a mistake, everybody does sometimes."

I was getting tired of this: Simon always coming to Chloe's rescue. I didn't know if he was still under the illusion that Chloe was helpless or not. Because she isn't. She is a lot braver and self-reliant that she's given credit for and she should be treated so and not like the naïve, feeble person she was believed to be. "Our situation calls for caution. We can't afford to make mistakes. Just because you like her doesn't mean I'm going to go around pretending things are all right when they're not, Simon."

That was the wrong thing to say because Simon suddenly became indignant, like we were in grade three and he couldn't believe I had pulled out the 'you like Chloe' card.

"This has nothing to do with me liking her. It has to do with you acting like a jackass."

I stopped, forcing Simon to as well, glaring and setting my jaw, before continuing on. Simon sighed, mumbled something about me always being difficult, and crossed the street, taking some time to cool off. His anger was always short-lived; Simon was too naturally pleasant to be mad for long. He'd be back on my side of the street in five minutes, an apology ready on his lips.

I _was not_ being a jackass. I was just refusing to sugarcoat things for Chloe. She wasn't five and I would think that she would be insulted if I treated her like she was. I wasn't even trying to be mean. All I wanted to do was keep her in line, make her self-aware. She needed to start considering what she was capable of and learn how to deal with it before she did something that would entail serious consequences. Like I had said to Simon, being what we are and living as we are, there isn't room for error, for a mistake that could end up costing us our lives. I know it sounds melodramatic, but it was the truth. The cold, hard, truth.

As I was peeking into another alley, I stopped in my tracks, nostrils flaring. I heard Simon approaching behind me.

"D, listen. I'm-" he had started to say, but stopped when he took in my raised head and rigid position.

"What do you smell?" he asked urgently.

I shook my head to reassure him it was nothing worrisome. Quite the contrary, actually.

"McDonalds." I replied longingly. We had been eating crappy gas station food for the past couple of days and the smell of fries and burgers-no matter how full of preservatives or questionable ingredients-was undeniably inviting.

"Seriously? That's awesome! Maybe I could-" I cut him off, before his overactive imagination took him too far and harm him on the way down.

"You can't eat that. You know the high concentration of sugar and sodium in that stuff would be a toxic combination for you."

"Thanks for reminding me, _Dad. _One fry wouldn't kill me, Derek. But for your information, I wasn't thinking about me. I was thinking about getting breakfast for Chloe tomorrow."

"Oh," I said dumbly, beginning to walk again. _Of course, _he was thinking about Chloe, being considerate as always. I wasn't too sure why my thoughts suddenly held a bitter tinge to them and I quickly reminded myself that this was what I had wanted, _still _do want. Everything was going according to plan: Chloe played her part by getting Simon out of Lyle House and now she was a distraction for him, to keep him from worrying too much about the journey ahead. However, I did not, for some reason, feel as fulfilled and accomplished as I usually do when things go according to plan. Simon interrupted my contemplation with the apology he hadn't gotten the chance to say.

"Derek, I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

"I know." I said quickly, interjecting. Simon shouldn't be apologizing to me. He didn't do anything wrong, really, and I didn't enjoy making him feel bad enough that he felt that he _had to_ apologize. "It's fine."

He persisted, "You're not being jackass. I get your point, I really do. All I'm trying to say, is that you should, you know, go about it a little more nicely."

Simon and I clearly weren't going to come to any form of agreement anytime soon. I was right and he was too blinded by a pretty girl to realize it. I grunted, letting him interpret it whichever way he wanted, not wanting to have a circular argument.

After a couple more minutes, we finally came upon an unoccupied delivery bay. There was a biting north wind, but it was late, and we were all exhausted, so we would have to deal.

"Stay here while I go and get the girls." I commanded to Simon.

"Sure thing, _mon capitan!_" he said, saluting, back to his usual, good-humored self.

As I was walking, a sudden sense of urgency made my heart beat a little faster and implored me to quicken my pace. I tried to stifle the inexplicable feeling, but it would not go away. The anxiety was twisting my stomach and my heart was thumping audibly-at least to me-against my ribs, which was a natural reaction when you found yourself in danger, which was odd, because I wasn't in a threatening situation.

I started to jog, hoping it might calm my sensitive nerves. All it ended up doing was make me feel as if I should be running more quickly. As I was rounding the corner, exasperated at the sudden onset on baffling emotion, I was met by a sight that did nothing to calm my nerves.

Tori was running toward me with all her might, fear and panic dominating her features, while Chloe nowhere in sight. It felt like a lead weight had dropped in my stomach. She came to halt in front of my now still figure, breathing raggedly and bent forward, hands on her knees. She looked up at me and gasped, "Chloe."

And that was all it took.

I shot forward, brushing past her and followed Chloe's scent. Thank god for small miracles because astoundingly, Chloe was upwind and I was able to track her without a problem. It was when I found her that the problems really started.

Time seemed to slow down, completely stop, to let me take in the scene and _smell_ her blood, before I was taken over by a blinding rage, unable to think coherently and acting solely on instinct.

I ran to the girl attacking Chloe and wrenched her in the air, snarling in fury. And then… I don't know. I let it happen. Again. Even when I had had time to process the situation. Just as I was about to swing her into the brick wall, a terrified scream from Chloe managed to enable me to regain control. I checked myself at the last second, so abruptly that I stumbled. The terror in my hands was flailing and kicking. I think her foot may have made contact, but I wasn't sure. My mind was still reeling from the fact that I had almost endangered _another_ life to really feel much else.

I looked around, saw a fence, and decided on a more appropriate future for the girl I was holding. With a grunt, I heaved her over it and she crashed onto the other side. No damage done except a few sore ribs.

I turned to see Chloe scrambling to her feet, unsteady and shaking. And I was suddenly so angry all over again. I could not believe she had gotten herself into this situation, all because she hadn't _listened to me._ _What if something had happened to her? _That thought seemed to contribute to the anger and enable it to blossom even further.

I stormed over to her, grabbed her collar and yanked her up.

"Move!" I commanded.

She grabbed the fallen knife that had practically carved her face. I couldn't believe she was focusing on such unimportant matters. She wasn't moving fast enough for my liking, so I shoved her forward. She finally started running and I took the lead, guiding her.

As I was running, I tried to rationalize, to reign in the anger, but to no avail. Every time I was even close to success, I was reminded of the fact that something could have, and _would have,_ happened to her had I not shown up when I did and that brought on another bout of anger. Plus, I also had to accept that I had almost ended another life tonight. After the weeks of cognitive behavioral therapy with Dr. Gill and all the preparation, I still couldn't manage to control myself, to control what I am. Deciding that calm wasn't going to find me any time soon, I spun on her, fixing her with my hardest gaze.

She shrank back and I grabbed her arm, keeping her still. I hated it when she did that. It was one thing for strangers to shy away from me, for the disdain and the fear to be clear and unashamedly displayed on their features. But it was another thing for Chloe to act afraid of me. I would _never _hurt her and after everything we had been through, I thought that she knew that, that she knew I would be there to protect her rather than harm her. It was hurtful that she didn't.

"Did I tell you to stay put?" I demanded.

"Yes, but-" Oh no, there was no way she was going to justify this stunt.

"Did I tell you to stay put!" I roared, unable to control the anger brought on by the fear of her being in danger.

"Yes. You did. But you also told me to watch out for Tori, and she took off." she replied evenly and quietly. Oh yes, of course she would watch out for Tori, the back-stabbing bitch who most likely hadn't glanced back when she left Chloe to fend for herself.

"I don't give a rat's ass about Tori. If she walks away, let her. If she steps in front of a bus, let her."

Her eyes did that thing where it seemed as if Chloe was all knowing and could fit all the puzzle pieces together. Saying nothing, she pried my fingers from her arm. I pulled back, clenching and unclenching my fists that terribly wanted to hit something.

"If she takes off, let her go. I don't care what happens to her." I said, truthfully and calmer and more collected.

"I do." she said affirmatively. I stepped back, scratching absently at my arm. I saw Chloe looking at me carefully, watching me as if I was about to start writhing on the floor at any given moment.

"It's an itch. A normal itch." I said defensively.

"Have you had any other symptoms? Fever or-"

"No." I snapped, irritated that she was trying to change the subject, deflect from what had just happened. "Don't change the subject. You need to be more careful, Chloe. Like earlier, with that body. You need to think about what could happen."

"And what about you?" she countered, pointing as I scratched my arm again. "The werewolf who hasn't had his first change yet, but knows he's developing fast. Yet when you started getting restless, feverish, itchy, it never occurred to you that you might be Changing early? You let it slide… until it starts the night we're supposed to escape."

I couldn't believe she was using that against me. Changes aren't supposed to start until a werewolf is at least eighteen. I hadn't known that our genes had been tampered with, how was I supposed to know what was happening.

"I wasn't going with you guys-" I tried to reason, but was interrupted.

"But if I hadn't stayed to find you, Simon wouldn't have left. You could have botched the escape because you didn't know what was happening to you."

"I _didn't._"

"Like I didn't know I could raise the dead in my sleep." Damn her for being reasonable. She was right, of course. But I was too mad and too stubborn to like it, let alone accept it. "But did I chew you out? Did I even mention how close I came to getting caught because I stayed to help?"

I looked away, trying to come up with a counter attack. Chloe seemed to be conveniently forgetting that our relationship went both ways. I help her too and I intended to remind her of that. "I tried to help you, too. And got this." I said, gesturing to my scratched cheek.

"Because I woke up with a guy pinning me to the floor! I know you were trying to keep me from seeing that zombie crawling on me. A good plan, poorly executed. Then you totally lost patience and kept barking orders."

"I was trying to help." I tried to reason.

"And what if I'd done that to you? Yelled at you to finish Changing before we got caught?"

With all this talk of the Change, I remembered that I hadn't actually thanked her for staying there. It would have taken a lot of guts to stay with me and see that when you knew what I was. Chloe had found me in that state, completely unaware of what I was becoming. She had been uncommonly brave and having her there had been comforting. I really should have expressed my gratitude as soon as I could have. She had a point, too. I had been in the exact same situation as her under different circumstances and she had handled it a lot better than I was. I looked away from her penetrating eyes, the shame for the way I was acting beginning to sink in.

"I… about that night. I haven't said…" To hell with it. I'm not good with words. I'm better with actions. I'm not charming or eloquent like Simon.

Simon.

Shit. He must be going crazy with worry. Worried about Chloe. He would have handled this a lot better, too. Squaring my shoulders, I abandoned my attempt to express my gratefulness, and said, "We need to get back. Simon will be worried about you."

We walked in silence, her trailing behind me. And I could not just let it go. If Chloe had done what I told her do to, _she would never have been in that situation. _She put herself in danger. I could only protect her for so much without her cooperation. I spun around, facing her.

"Next time I tell you to stay, I mean stay."

"I'm not a dog, Derek." she replied, voice steady. Her tacit refusal to examine and understand where I was coming from was inexpressibly frustrating. I wanted to keep her safe. I couldn't do that if she _purposefully _put herself in dangerous situations.

"Maybe not, but you obviously need someone to look after you, and I'm tired of doing it." If she wasn't going to cooperate, then so be it. I could only stick my neck out for her so far before I did something I'd regret, like tonight.

"Don't." she said tersely.

"Don't what?"

"Didn't we agree to stop bickering?" This wasn't an argument. It was a discussion

"This isn't-" she cut me off, irritation coloring her attempt to be reasonable and logical.

"You're mad at yourself and you're taking it out on me."

Something inside me just snapped and I advanced towards her. Without a doubt, what I had done back there was a mistake and I severely regretted it. However, the guilt had not yet had time to kick in. At the moment, I was mad at _her. _For ignoring my attempts at protecting her. For putting herself in danger. For being too god damn stubborn to admit that she was in the wrong. And most of all, for being the source of my sudden surge of rage that led me to practically throw the girl

"I'm mad at _you_, Chloe. You took off. You got in trouble I had to rescue you."

I was stalking towards her and she was backing away, pressing herself into a chain link fence.

"And stop doing that. Backing away, giving me that look."

"Like you're scaring me? Maybe you are."

I stepped back so fast I stumbled. I felt like I had been slapped in the face. For Chloe to say it aloud… I felt betrayed. Hurt. Dangerous. She shouldn't be afraid of me. I would never, ever hurt her.

"I would never hurt you, Chloe. You should know-" She _should_ know it too. After everything we've done for each other, everything I've done for her, all the time I've spent thinking about her, worrying about her, she should know that, that I wouldn't hurt her. If anything, she should have realized how far I was willing to go to keep her out of harms way. Tonight was a perfect example of that. But if she wouldn't recognize it, if she was going to choose to judge me and fear me like everyone else, then, whatever. I didn't need to protect her any longer. I scowled, disappointed and hurt that I she was acting like every other person I had ever encountered. I walked away, was going to leave it at that, but decided to make the limit of our relationship clear.

I looked over my shoulder, saying, "Next time? Handle it yourself. I'm done taking care of you."

The rest of our walk was silent and filled with tension. Simon knew something bad had happened and was glancing worriedly between Chloe and I, but was tactful enough not to bring it up. And Tori, well, she had the decency to feel properly ashamed and didn't-couldn't-even look Chloe or I in the eye. Good. I hoped she felt bad.

Everyone was asleep in mere minutes. Everyone except me. I was still too angry and worried and hurt and regretful to sleep.

I saw Chloe shivering out of the corner of my eye. And even though I knew that I had said to her that I was done taking care of her, who was I kidding? She was part of my pack now. My legs carried me over to her, as if possessing a mind of their own. I strategically placed my body so as to block as much of the wind that I could. Sighing, I looked down at her sleeping figure and realized that I had no choice in the matter. I wasn't going to stop taking care of her any time soon, even if I could.

I spent the rest of the night watching the steady rise and fall of her chest, letting it calm me and reassure me that, for the time being, she was safe.

**As always, critiques, suggestions are much appreciated. R&R :)**


	11. Chapter 11

Two updates in two days... Whew! This is for not updating for a week :p

To all the readers, you know what you are, but I'll tell you anyways. You're amazingly awesome and I thank you for reading my stories.

To the reviewers, you too know the drill, but I don't care, I'm going to go through it one more time. You are all remarkable, humbling, incredible people who brighten my day.

This is set during the Reckoning when Derek is changing back in the Edison Group lab and his discussion with Simon afterwards.

Disclaimer: If I were Kelley Armstrong, it wouldn't have taken me four tries to write this.

_Brotherly advice_

_DPOV_

My whole body spasmed, all four legs shooting out, a back claw nicking Simon and a front paw swatting Tori. _Oh god, _I thought to myself, _why does this have to be happening now?_

"I think that's a no." Simon said, referring to his previously asked question of whether or not it could wait. If it could, this would definitely _not _be happening-I wouldn't even let it be happening if I had any say in the matter.

"We need to clear out. As you can tell, this requires room. And it might not be something you want to see." Chloe said professionally. She shooed them out and then turned to me, saying softly, "You've done this alone now, so I guess you don't need-" she stopped when I caught her jeans in between my teeth, pulling gently, eyes asking her to stay. I knew it was selfish and dangerous and that I should just let her go, give her a chance to get away with the others if it came down to that.

But I _couldn't._

It had been so painful and so terrifying to go through it alone, without Chloe at my side to comfort me, to support me. I wanted her here, I _needed _her here as a reminder of what I was fighting for. I needed to feel her body beside mine and to see her safe beside me.

She told the others she was staying and that if there was any sigh of the SWAT team, they were to get out, to save themselves. For once, I agreed with her.

"We aren't leaving you two." Simon said stubbornly. I growled, telling him not to fight because he didn't have a choice. Simon wasn't going to die because he was waiting for me. Plus it would be easier to protect Chloe if I didn't have the others to watch out for and worry about too.

"He's agreeing with me. For once. You have to go. With any luck, they'll presume that means Derek and I are someplace else." Chloe reasoned.

Simon didn't like it, but he resigned and grumbled for me to hurry up.

Lauren stayed behind after they'd gone, her jaw set and her eyes worried, yet narrowed when she looked at me.

"If anything happens, you're coming with us, Chloe. Derek can look after-"

Chloe cut her off sharply, "No, he can't. Not like this. He needs me."

"I don't care." Her aunt said bluntly. At least she wasn't bullshitting, pretending to like me for Chloe's sake. Even though she had just admitted to being completely unconcerned for my well being, I respected how she said it.

"I do. He needs me. So I stay." Chloe said with finality. They locked gazes for a minute and I knew Chloe wasn't going to back down, not only because she was stubborn, but also because she cared. About me. It was then that I realized that Chloe wasn't going anywhere and that allowed me to look at her in a whole new light and care for her that much more.

A look passed through her aunt's eyes, one that expressed the look of a parent who realized that their kid had grown up and didn't need them in the same way anymore. She sighed softly and looked away. Chloe walked over to her and hugged her, saying, "I'm fine."

"I know." Lauren replied. The only thing that betrayed her was the tight, fierce hug she gave Chloe, obviously not believing what she had just said.

She left and the body spasms began their field day.

The change had come faster, and without vomiting. I fell onto my side, panting, shaking and shivering. And even though the Change was something I wouldn't wish on anyone, it was so much easier than the last, all because Chloe was here with me. She really did make the pain almost bearable and was a source of so much consolation.

I reached for her hand, holding it tight and entwining our fingers, needing that physical reassurance that everything, for the moment, was all right. She moved closer, brushing my hair away from my face.

I was enjoying our moment of closeness when Simon burst through the door, making us both jump.

"Whoa. You really need to get dressed before you start that."

"I'm not starting anything." I really needed to inform him that his incessant verbal commentary wasn't always necessary or very appreciated.

"Still…" he said uncomfortably, holding out the pile of fabric in his hands. "Dr. Fellows dug up some hospital greens for you. Get dressed and then… whatever."

"We weren't-" Chloe began.

"Have you still got my note?" Simon asked abruptly. She nodded.

"Give it to him." he instructed. Chloe pulled a folded piece of paper from her pocket, and then turned away, most likely wanting to avoid having to confront my nakedness.

Completely illogically, I decided to first examine the paper, curiosity winning over modesty and still too hot to put on clothes. I unfolded the paper and was touched, stunned: it was a drawing. Chloe was kneeling beside a large, black wolf, her arms around its neck while it regarded her intensely.

The message behind it reverberated within me because not only did it convey that he knew about Chloe and I and accepted it, but he also _understood_ what it was, how it was between us and what it meant.

Simon's drawings were never just drawings. They weren't just lines and colours and renditions of things he had seen. They were able to capture feeling and truth.

Simon had managed to encapsulate _just_ how I felt about, _just _how deep I was in and how much she seemed to care too.

I was, for a couple of seconds, rendered uncharacteristically speechless.

"We good?" he asked.

"Yeah." I replied, lowering my voice.

He turned to go, but I couldn't let him. Not yet. I wanted to apologize for not telling him sooner, for not trusting him and misjudging his reaction. And I wanted to thank him for being so mature and understanding about it. I called him, grunting with effort as I rose from the floor, and padded over to him.

He turned back, questions dancing in his eyes.

"Simon, first I just wanted to say that I'm sorry. I should have-" He held up his hand, cutting me off.

"Are you happy?" he asked.

"What?" I asked, unprepared for the sudden turn in conversation.

"Does she make you happy?" he asked slowly, pronouncing each word carefully, as if he were explaining differential algebra to a five year old.

"Yes." I said without hesitation and completely honestly, realizing it for the first time.

Chloe made me feel a lot of things, but I always had trouble coming up with a word that encompassed it all. I finally realized that happiness was the word I had been searching for. Above all else, Chloe made me unquestionably, irreversibly happy whenever we were together, even when we were fighting-despite how twisted that sounds. Because even when we fought and she was irritating me or being stubborn or not listening to what I was saying, it still didn't take away from the fact that she _would_ fight with me.

"Then that's all that matters. I'd be a shitty brother if I wanted you to apologize for being happy. And I don't because-as cliché as this sounds-I'm happy that you're happy. Besides, she's perfect for you; you're perfect for each other. So go over there and start enjoying what most people only dream of finding."

Swallowing my pride, throwing my stubbornness out the window, I admitted grudgingly, yet sheepishly, "I don't know what to do." I knew what I _wanted _to do, but I didn't know if there were guidelines or a protocol for this type of situation.

Simon looked suddenly elated and rather smug.

"What? I'm sorry, but I don't think I heard you right. Did you just, in Derek-speak, ask _me_ for help, admit to not knowing something. What's the date? Do have a pen? I need to record this." he said teasingly.

He got a look for that.

"Simon…" I growled. "I just… I want… Will you-" He cut me off, interrupting my miserable attempt at asking for help.

"You want my advice." he stated matter-of-factly. "Give me a minute to gloat, to revel in the fact, and then I'll help." He sighed theatrically, raising his chin in the air, as if basking in the glory of being asked for help.

"Are you done being stupid?" I asked irritatedly.

He grinned cheekily. "Yep. Now, down to business. You want my advice? Go over there and kiss her. Kiss her long and hard until she knows exactly how you feel, until there's no more room for confusion."

My heart sped up at the thought, both in anticipation and in nervousness. Kissing wasn't exactly something I had a lot of experience in. Actually, that was the understatement of the year. I had absolutely no idea what to do.

But if this kiss were to be even one third of what the last one was, the one that engulfed every nerve in my body in flames, then… then I'd be damned lucky.

I squared my shoulders and nodded. Simon clapped me on the back, as if to pump me up and wish me good luck.

He left and I dressed quickly, walking over to Chloe when I was done.

I touched her waist then, lightly, tentatively, to tell her I was there. She turned and her face was right there, right below mine, her pink lips deliciously inviting. I slid my arms around her, tightening my hold, as if intending to never let go-which I never wanted to. She tilted her face upwards and-

"What the-?" Tori stood in the doorway, Simon behind her, grabbing her arm.

"I told you not to-" he began.

"Yeah, but you didn't say why. I sure didn't expect…" she trailed off, shaking her head. "Am I the last one to know everything around here?"

Chloe cut them off and said, "Derek's ready. We need to move."

I swallowed the urge to say that _they_ needed to move. Back in time, more specifically. I swear to God, those two should be related with their uncanny ability to interrupt everything.

Thoroughly irritated, I sighed to myself and led the way out.

**I realize that this wasn't a "short, murmured conversation" like it was in the book, but, this is what came to me. Please Review :)**


	12. Chapter 12

I want to inform everyone who reads this that this will be the final one-shot* that is based on instances in the book. I have one more planned after this, but it takes place later on in their lives, so I wanted to get all the thank you's and acknowledgement out of the way.

*Suria17: I didn't plan for the shot you had requested and when i tried writing it, it was a bit too similar to some of the other ones. I might go back and try to do it, but it'll have to be later. Please forgive me!

Firstly, to all the readers, I can honestly not thank you enough for reading these stories. If I didn't have you guys, I wouldn't have had the chance to do any of this. You're all amazing.

Secondly, I'd like to give a big shout out to anyone who has added this story to their favorites list or story alert or had listed me as a favorite author. I swell with pride and childish joy whenever I get an email that notifies me of such things. You guys rock!

Lastly, but certainly not least, the reviewers deserve, in my eyes, so much praise. I don't think that I can properly convey how happy it makes me whenever I get a review, so I think it's only right to thank you all. So, to: xxWarxx, Jacey Pennywise, suzie1811, Amethyst-Blood-Crimson-Tears, SeiyasGirl, werewolf girl8907, ange3noo, Boat Gal, Vicky, not-so-innocent011, xxStarBrightxx, NinjaTurtles909, , derekandchloe4ever, silverymoonxoxo, enosselesueht, Ashtreerose, CrazyNerdyFangirl, fireicegirl16, Emmoria, ChLeReK4ever and Suria17, you guys are seriously the best and brighten my day whenever you review.

I'd also like to really thank those who have been with me from the beginning (I feel really melodramatic, like I've written some long fanfic and I'm thanking everyone who has supported me from way back when the story started :p) You guys got me going.

Now that this ridiculously long author's note is over, we'll move onto the setting. This is-drum roll please-the end of the Reckoning* from our beloved Derek's POV.

*Alasyn, way to read my mind. I've had this written for like three weeks but have just been waiting to post it :p

_What I've been waiting for_

_DPOV_

Chloe and I went for our long anticipated walk alone after dinner, strolling hand in hand. The walk through the woods was silent, though not uncomfortable, and gave me time to openly welcome the relief that I felt and the possibilities-more like fantasies, if I was being honest-that were spinning through my mind now that I knew Chloe wasn't going anywhere.

When her aunt had agreed to let her stay so easily, without protestation, I had been surprised, though I still welcomed it with open arms. I had expected more of fight from Lauren, or at the very least, for her to vocalize some hesitation or adamancy at the suggestion that she remain with us.

That was the outcome I had prepared for, had imagined would take place and in turn, rehearsed what I would say. I had been on edge, every nerve in my body tightly wound, when the topic had been broached and ready to jump in with my carefully planned arguments at the first sight of resistance on Lauren's part.

If she thought it would be safer for Chloe to go into hiding, back to "normal society", I'd quickly put an end to such disillusion. There was nowhere safer for Chloe, surrounded by others like her, and under the care of someone with connections and inside sources within the supernatural community. Plus, would she really consider it best to take Chloe away from the only people she could truly related to? And what about the attempts that would have to be made to reintegrate Chloe back into normalcy if she were taken away? Would Lauren feel right putting so much pressure on Chloe to try to pretend to be something she wasn't? I was prepared, at the ready to break down Lauren's resolve if needed and although it was both pleasant and a relief that I hadn't had too, it was still a shame that my flawless argumentation had gone to waste.

When we were far enough away from the motel, safe from _all_ interruptions-_finally-_I led her into a small patch of woods. I hesitated, suddenly unsure of what to do, of how to proceed. After picturing this much needed alone time with Chloe countless times since we had escaped the lab, it had now become a reality, thrust into my hands to do what I liked with it. Suddenly having so much control after so much time without it presented significant shock value, and I needed a moment to readjust. The result was that I was nervous now- though not of rejection or a rebuff for I knew, just knew, that Chloe and I belonged together-but of the uncertainty.

I didn't know what to do.

We no longer had the fear of impending demise or any sort of time restriction, for that matter, to urge us on, and without that, I suddenly became a shy, inexperienced, teenage boy.

The same was not to be said for Chloe, though.

She confidently stepped in front of me and following her lead, I slid my free hand around her waist, almost naturally, like it was an old habit that was too strong to break.

"So. Seems like you're going to be stuck with me for a while." she said, attempting to control a smirk.

And to hear her say it, to have her confirm it, for it to be _out there _that she wasn't going anywhere, absolutely elated me. I smiled honestly and carelessly, without worry for the first time in what felt like forever, but what had more likely been four years.

"Good." I said simply, though, really, 'good' didn't-couldn't even-_begin_ to describe how I felt.

I pulled her against me and leaned down, ready to finally indulge in what our relationship had inadvertently and yet undoubtedly been leading up to. Her pulse was racing-I could hear it, _feel _it thumping wildly in her chest.

When my lips touched hers, I felt that same jolt-the one that awoke every nerve in my body as if they had been dormant for years beforehand-that I had the first time, but she remained tense, as if waiting for another interruption, or for me to pull away.

I pressed her against me more firmly, deciding right then and there that there was to be no more uncertainty from this moment onwards. I wanted to let Chloe know that me pulling away-pushing her away-and any indecision about us would no longer be a possibility, a problem.

Understanding my message and its implications, Chloe relaxed against me and _finally_ responded.

I let instinct take charge.

And all coherent thoughts fell away, no longer possible to form.

All I was capable of was feeling. Feeling Chloe.

Every part of me she touched seared with heat, as if she had a live flame in her hands. All I could smell was Chloe. All I could _think _about was Chloe.

All I wanted was Chloe.

It was like a sensory overload and I couldn't seem to get enough.

She tightened her arms around my neck and unconsciously, I scooped her up, needing her as close as possible, needing to feel her body against mine, needing as easy access as possible to the girl who was responsible for my joy, my overwhelming emotions.

Dimly, in some faraway part of my mind that was somehow still capable of clear thought, I knew that even if the road ahead was still rocky and uncertain, and that we were still in danger, I could not be happier.

And as long as I had Chloe, I knew I never would be.

**Whew! And it's done! Short and sweet and probably the second fluffiest shot here.**

***Note how I said SECOND fluffiest. As I said, I have one more planned and for all you Chlerek fans, I think you'll like it ;)**

**R&R and thank you once again to everyone :)**


	13. Chapter 13

As promised, this is the final one-shot. For all you Chlerek people, I think you'll enjoy it-but it's not too lemony for those who those types of stories don't float their boat. It switches POV'S and starts off with Chloe's. Thanks a million for all the support!

*This is so not M-rated, but the word sex is mentioned in here. Just mentioned! I'm probably being paranoid, but I just wanted to mention it, just in case.

_The first day of the rest of my life_

_CPOV_

I looked at myself objectively in the full-length mirror, eyes narrowed in self-inspection. I turned to the right, then to the left, and finally, all the way around, my eyes never straying from the dress.

The dress itself was beautiful and, like with everything else associated with today, I had Tori to thank for it. Not only had she come shopping with me, but she had also picked out the dress, her eyes landing on it almost immediately and insisting I try it on.

It ended up being the only one I tried on.

It was strapless, white lace with a sweetheart neckline and tight bodice that flared out and ended in a small, humble train. Its finishing touch was the minute, cloth-covered buttons that lined me from lower back to the top of the dress. All in all, it made me feel pretty and after staring at myself for a few more moments, I nodded to myself in approval, deciding that I looked pretty too.

I moved to sit on the couch in the dressing chamber, giving myself a break from all the standing I've done since eight in the morning, satisfied with my appearance and having decided and accepted that this was probably the best I'd ever look. It's not as if I schlepped around everyday, looking messy and frazzled. I just don't put too much thought into my appearance. Mascara, chapstick, jeans and a tee were my daily routine, my uniform, and I only deviated from it when I went to work. I didn't have the time or the patience for much else, unlike Tori, who thinks the world is her own personal runway.

I smiled to myself at the thought of her. She was my best friend, the sister I never had. And very shortly, she legally would be… My mind flashed back to the day Kit had told Simon and Tori they were related. After a lot of screaming, a few knock-back spells and binding spells, and one emotionally charged energy bolt, Tori's defenses had finally cracked under all the emotion and she had calmed down, defeated, and listened as Kit explained what had happened with her mother and him. Amidst some very unwanted tears and a bit more screaming, she had finally accepted the truth, though it took her a while to adjust to the thought and call Kit 'Dad'. When she had though, the smile couldn't be wiped off his face and now, she was the apple of his eye.

The revelation to Simon, although a lot less dramatic, still entailed some screaming, though more in disbelief-and disgust, when Kit had mentioned the words _petri dish._ He had, however, accepted it a lot more calmly and quickly than Tori and had managed to instigate their first sibling fight within the next twenty-four hours.

And Derek, aside from being mildly surprised, took it in stride and mumbled gruffly that '_she's already in the pack anyway, so this doesn't change much, really'._

They were all siblings, regardless of the blood they did-or didn't-share and they even referred to each other as so. And Kit was the glue that held them all together, composed of a bit of each of them: Derek's rationality, Simon's boyish mischievousness, and Tori's strength of character.

My heart fluttered in anticipation at the thought of the family that I would soon officially become a part of.

If it were anyone other than Derek, I'd be nervous just at the thought of what I was about to do. But because it _was _Derek, all I could feel was happiness, pure elation, and excitement. I loved him with all I had and I always would and I've known since the second month into our relationship that it was inevitable that we'd one day reach this milestone. And at twenty-one, we finally had.

At first, I hadn't wanted a big wedding. As a full time student at UCLA and a part time secretary at a small production company, I had thought that I wouldn't have the time to plan it. There was also the fact that Derek-even though he was only twenty-two, he was still _Derek-_was in the middle of completing his doctorate in molecular and cellular biology at Stanford. I had worried that right now wasn't the _ideal_ time to be getting married for him, either.

But he had wanted to and stubbornly refused my suggestion of remaining engaged for a while until things settled down. When I had reminded him that we weren't even _living_ together because of the distance between our schools-he would spend three days at my place, I would spend three days at his-he questioned whether or not I really did want to get married. Hurt by his insinuations, I had called him irrational and stupid, which resulted in a huge fight that ended in great make up sex. Needless to say, at the end of the night, I was back to being ecstatic about getting married. And after a phone call to Tori, everything had been set. Even though she was at MIT for computer sciences and software design-along with Simon, who was there for graphic design-she had, in lack of better terms, informed me that she would take care of everything and left no room for questioning. She would relay all the details to me, which I, in turn, excitedly passed on to Derek, who was a good sport most of the time and only mumbled about all this 'nonsense' occasionally.

That was two months ago and now here I was. Twenty minutes away from marrying, as clichéd as it sounded, my soulmate in front of a group of seventy-five. I had a few friends from school here, Derek had none-shocking, I know. Even though he was more approachable now-he didn't scowl as much-than he used to be, he couldn't exactly be called a social butterfly and still only spoke to people he didn't know well only when strictly necessary. At school, he only willingly talked to his professors.

The other seventy guests were all supernaturals. Ones we'd rescued form other labs, ones we'd fought alongside to take down the Cabal and the St. Cloud organization-the mother ship of the Edison Group-and ones we'd picked up along the way, righteous people, who, when informed of what was being done to their own kind, had eagerly joined the fight. There were a few Pack members here too, those who held a special place in my heart: Jeremy and Jaime and Elena and Clayton- who, once you got to know them, weren't as scary as they seemed. We had, out of moral obligation, approached the Pack when Tori had hacked a file pertaining to a clandestine experiment that dealt solely with werewolves. Once we had introduced our cause and ourselves and presented the problem, they had been outraged and had gladly joined our crusade.

The whole gang was here. Well, almost. My dad couldn't make it; he unexpectedly got tied up in Australia for business and, according to him, it was _impossible _to leave. Ha had paid for the wedding and was paying for the honeymoon to compensate for his absence, but it didn't matter. The monetary support didn't make up for anything.

Our final struggle against the Cabal and the St. Cloud organization hadn't been over quickly. It had taken us a while to gather supporters, find information and rescue other subjects. When it was all over, two and a half years of our lives had disappeared along with the danger and threats we had grown accustomed to. But when we were finally safe, I was allowed to see my dad for the first time in three years. I had contacted him shortly after we had defeated the Edison Group, but the conversation had been short, only long enough for me to tell him that I was safe and that the price on my head needed to be removed.

When we had been reunited, though he looked older and worn, he had also looked so happy and so relieved that I had allowed myself to hope. To hope that things would be different. That he would be different and we'd have a chance at a relationship. And for a while, things were different. Although I had moved to California for school, he called me everyday and we had gotten to know each other. I had no longer loved him just because he was my dad, but also because of the person I had grown to know.

But, old habits die hard and after six months, the calls came less frequently. It had gotten to the point where, now, he called once a month, if I was lucky, bimonthly. Aunt Lauren would never forgive him for _this stunt,_ as she had put it, but I… I don't know. After originally being disappointed, I couldn't say that I was surprised. My dad hadn't been a part of my life for a long time and, over the years, I had grown to accept and become almost indifferent to his absence. I had also realized, after all the fighting and the lives lost, that life was like that. You lose some, you gain some. You can't have everything you want.

A knock on the door snapped me out of my reverie.

"Come in," I called.

Tori stepped through the door, looking gorgeous as ever in her short-though not scandalous-gold, sequined dress. My wedding colours, as Tori had told me a month and three weeks ago were black, white and gold. I really hadn't had much say in the matter.

"How-" she began to say, but stopped abruptly when she caught sight of me, eyes widening.

"What's wrong?" I asked anxiously, jumping up. "Is it stained? Is there a rip? Does it look terrible?" My questions were being asked more frantically by the second and thankfully, Tori silenced me, cutting of my babbling by placing two fingers over my mouth.

"Chloe, calm down. Nothing is wrong." she said, punctuating every word. I breathed a sigh of relief.

"It's just... you look so beautiful, like an angel."

In the six years since my life had been completely turned upside down, I had changed. Although still shy, I was assertive and had grown four inches, gained twelve pounds, _developed, _and lost my nervous stutter-well, except when Derek was being a tease. However, my easy blushing came back with a vengeance whenever I was angry, upset or embarrassed, almost as if to recompense for everything I had lost.

At Tori's comment, I blushed an attractive shade of tomato red.

"Thanks, Tor." I said quietly, looking down.

"Of course we can count on you to be the blushing bride." she said wryly.

I just smiled and rolled my eyes.

"Okay," she said, suddenly sounding professional, while slowly walking around me once and nodding to herself. "Let's go over the checklist: Something old?"

I lifted up my dress to reveal my tried and true white converse, striking a pose just to get on her nerves. She scrunched up her nose in disdain.

"I still _cannot _believe that you insisted on wearing those _things _on you wedding day! I should have burned them when I had the chance."

The question of my footwear was a point on which I would not be dissuaded. I loved these shoes. They were comfortable and I was a lot less likely to break my leg in these than in the four-inch heels Tori had wanted to put me in.

"All's fair in love and war." I said, smiling sweetly.

"Whatever," she mumbled, defeated. "Something new?"

I held out the dress.

"Something borrowed?"

I turned around and motioned to the beautiful opal and crystal hair clip that she had leant me and was currently holding back half of my softly waved hair. She smiled slightly.

"And finally, something blue?"

I fingered my amulet that now hung on a delicate silver chain. It had turned a deep, sapphire blue after we had fought the St. Cloud's and had stayed that way ever since.

She nodded curtly, apparently satisfied.

"How are you doing?" she asked.

"Great." I replied honestly.

"No nerves? No doubts?" The latter was said jokingly. Tori had been asking us after six months together when we would open up our retired savings bond.

"None at all." I said confidently. I've known for so long that I would be spending the rest of my life with Derek. It had always been the inevitable path for us. We were just making it official.

She smiled knowingly, rolling her eyes, no doubt remembering how serious Derek and I had gotten so quickly.

"Speaking of. How _is _he doing?" I asked, slightly worried about him. I hadn't seen or spoken to him-very unwillingly, on my part-for a day and a bit and I knew how he got when we were separated for long periods of time. _I _even started feeling empty, lonely, when I didn't see him for long.

She snorted. "Probably pawing at the door he's so anxious to see you."

I gave her a look. Even though her remarks had now become endearing and humorous rather that snide and hurtful, Derek still got the brunt of most of her jokes.

She sighed. "I don't know. I was planning on checking on him after I was done in here with you. Do you need anything before I go?"

"I'm fine."

"Okay. See you soon. You look great." She said, giving me a tight squeeze before turning around and walking out the door.

_DPOV_

I was anxiously pacing around the room. Not in nervousness, but in anticipation. Tori had whisked Chloe off yesterday after noon and I hadn't seen or heard from her in twenty-six hours and eighteen minutes. I had already almost slipped twice and found myself having to _force _myself to turn around when I was halfway to the room Chloe was getting ready in. Now that I was so close to seeing her, I was like a kid on Christmas Eve, barely able to wait until the morning.

The wolf was a complete wreck at this point, whining in what could best be described as mourning after having been separated from his other half for so long. And I wasn't faring much better. I was so irrationally worried about her and anxious to see her that I'd probably _just_ be able to control the urge to jog down the aisle when I saw her, scooping her up and nuzzling her neck, reveling in her scent.

And this mental turmoil and emotional upheaval was all Tori's fault.

Chloe had been defenseless against her single-mindedness and had had no choice but to relent to Tori's incessant badgering, to her insistence that we follow tradition and be separated before we got married.

Tori really had gone overboard with the whole wedding thing, too.

I didn't care about any of the details; the guest list, the flowers, the colours, the "venue"-which I _still _wasn't completely clear on the meaning. All I was concerned about was that my family was there and marrying Chloe. The wolf didn't care for such frivolities. He had claimed her as his a long time ago and knew that we'd be together for the rest of our lives.

But _I _cared.

It was somewhat hard to explain. I loved her so much and I couldn't imagine _not_ marrying her. I wanted so badly to take this next step with her, to seal the deal and make her mine for the world to see.

The only thing that had kept me from saying anything-well, not _much-_during all of this planning and fussing was that I could see that it made Chloe happy. And that was one of the few things I truly cared about. As long as she was happy, I could stick it out and listen as interestedly as I was capable of as she described what type of flowers there would be and how many courses we were having. The latter had been the highlight in the hours we had undoubtedly spent talking about this day. Well, not the _only_ highlight. Another thing I enjoyed talking about was what would happen _after _we were married. I loved listening as Chloe described what kind of house she wanted to live in, what kind of life she wanted to give our children. It was fascinating and exciting.

The door opened abruptly and I stopped pacing, turning to face Tori.

"Okay-" she began, but stopped as she caught sight of me, cheeks turning slightly pink and eyes dropping to the floor. I looked down, wondering what had made her blush.

_Oh. _

I was shirtless, having discarded the jacket, shirt and tie long ago, discomforted and stifled by the stiff fabric. Anxious as I was, I couldn't-wouldn't-pass up this chance to tease her. I knew for one that she found me attractive, after having listened to her grudgingly admit it during a late night conversation between her and Chloe when we were seventeen. I knew for another that Tori had been deprived of substantial male company for a while now, being surrounded only by stereotypical, socially inept, fellow computer geeks. I did not miss the irony in me calling them socially inept, but I at least _knew_ how to socialize. I just chose not too. This would be fun, nonetheless.

"Wow, Tori. You really like to keep it on the family, don't you? I'm going to be taken in about five minutes, but you could always ask Simon. It might work now that you're both older. And I'm pretty sure it's legal in Jersey." I said, grinning wickedly.

As soon as the implication behind my words sunk in, she snapped her head up, eyes dancing with anger and fingers dangerously glowing with tightly reined in energy. She took a deep breath and stepped forward, poking me in the chest with a force that might have hurt had I not been a werewolf.

"I'm not going to do anything I might regret, but only because you're about to marry my best friend and I love her too much to hurt her. But if that weren't the case, I'd knock you all the way back to your days of puberty smackdown." she said threateningly, voice low, emphasizing her warning with another poke to my chest. I rolled my eyes, unfazed.

"What do you want?" I asked, not rudely, but curiously.

"First, I want you to put your shirt on, because I think it's only proper that you get married fully clothed. Then, I want you to come with me. You need to be out there now and would have been had you not decided to strip tease for the Chloe in your head."

Ignoring her, I focused on putting on my shirt and jacket, handing her the tie. She wordlessly tied it with an expert hand and stepped back, brushing my shoulders and carefully surveying her work.

"What did Dad do to you yesterday? Take you to a doggie day spa? Because if he did, you should definitely make it a monthly occurrence."

Deciding to overlook that jab, because, in her own way, she had just told me that I looked nice, I asked instead, "How is she?"

"Stunning." she replied, with a faraway look in her eyes, as if remembering just how beautiful Chloe looked. I didn't doubt it.

I opened the door and let Tori pass, following her down the hall that would lead us outside. As we were walking, she said, "As her best friend, I feel like it's my duty to tell you not to hurt her, to not break her heart, and that if you do, you'll wish that you'd never been born. But there's really no point in saying that to you, is there?"

"No." I said simply, because she was right, there wasn't. I would never-_could never-_hurt Chloe. Not only because I loved her too much to even fathom it, but because then, I'd be hurting a part of myself. I already had trouble parting with Chloe for more then thirteen hours, and even that was hard sometimes. I shied away from ever imagining doing something that would cause me to be without her for any longer than that.

We reached the archway and she turned toward me, placing a hand on my arm.

"Derek, you two are so lucky. Don't ever take what you have for granted." she said evenly. Knowing that the use of my name meant that she wanted her words to stick, I replied just as seriously.

"I won't." And I wouldn't. Not ever.

She patted me once on the arm and pushed me forward, toward the front of the aisle where I would wait for my future.

_TPOV_

As I walked down the aisle, I couldn't help but admire my handiwork. Fall in wine country was breathtaking and my careful planning had only added to the beauty. I surveyed the crowd, only paying close attention to my family. Simon's signature goofy grin was plastered on his face; Dad looked like he was on the brink of bursting with pride; and Lauren, who had accepted Derek and Chloe after a year together, was blinking rapidly, trying to keep her tears at bay, all the while keeping a vise grip on the tissue in her hand.

Reaching the altar, I decided to watch Chloe's descent down the aisle from Derek's eyes. I already knew how amazing she looked. It would be more satisfying to watch as Derek took her in, to watch his eyes light up like they always do when he sees her. Because, all teasing aside, what they have is special. Derek practically worships the ground she walks on-but tries to play it down-and Chloe loves him just as much. Seeing them makes me hopeful that that kind of love really can exist.

As the music starts, Derek, who had been looking down, no doubt unnerved in front of all these people, finally looked up, eyes widening in disbelief, looking as if the wind had just been knocked out of him. Then his eyes focused on her intently, as if she were the only person in the world, as if she were his lifeline and if he looked away, he would disappear. Finally, his eyes softened, revealing love and happiness. And when she came to stand beside him, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck as he simultaneously reached down to tuck her into his chest, they looked like two pieces of a puzzle, made to fit together, molding together perfectly. And as the priest began to speak, Derek started at Chloe in pure adoration, looking like the whipped puppy he was.

**Please R&R :)**

**This was my first time writing Chloe and Tori's POV, so I would really appreciate comments or critiques or suggestions, especially since I might do something in Tori's POV in a bit. **

**Thanks again to everyone who has supported this story in any way. You guys are the greatest!**


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